


XCOM: The Hades Contingency

by Xabiar



Category: XCOM: Enemy Within
Genre: Alien Invasion, Alien Technology, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Autopsies, Blood, Ethics, F/M, International Relations, Large Cast, Mild Gore, Military, Politics, Soldiers, United Nations, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:17:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 279,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7400362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xabiar/pseuds/Xabiar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When aliens begin an invasion of Earth, the XCOM project is activated in a desperate attempt to slow the incursion and save humanity. With few options, the Council turns to the only one who will do whatever it takes to defend humanity. Now, the war criminal known as the Commander must rally the defenders of Earth while contending with his enemies within the United Nations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

Introduction

* * *

  
This story is based on XCOM: Enemy Within with the Long War mod.

* * *

  
This story may contain material that some may find disturbing

* * *

  
I do not own any characters explicitly mentioned in XCOM: Enemy Unknown/Within

* * *

  
Dramatis Personae  
(Please note that not all characters are listed)  
The Commander- Commander of the XCOM project  
John Bradford- Central Officer of XCOM  
Raymond Shen- Head of XCOM Engineering  
Moira Vahlen- Head of XCOM Research  
Patrick Rush- United Nations Liaison


	2. Prologue - The Man In The Cell

 

_CIA Black Site Gray, Colorado, United States of America_

Patrick Rush had never appreciated how difficult it was for waiters to balance items on a tray until he tried it himself. He gripped the tray with both hands, a trivial task if he concentrated, though having far more serious matters on his mind, the act of balancing was harder than normal. This entire farce was questionable, but the United Nations wanted to extract the man quietly and to do that he had adopted the role of a prison guard.

Privately, Patrick questioned the decision of the UN to allow _him_ of all people to be the one to defend humanity. The man was worse than a war criminal, using tactics so inhumane that his own government had hunted him down after going rogue. He was fortunate that he hadn’t been executed for the acts he had committed, it was the very least he deserved. The image of the man on a crucifix brought him a morbid satisfaction, as the irony would be astronomical.

Unfortunately, those tactics were probably _why_ the UN wanted him in charge. They wanted someone who would do whatever it took to defend humanity regardless of the cost. True, he got results. But there were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed and he’d not only crossed them, but brought a new definition to the words _war criminal._

Patrick was not a betting man, but he’d bet his considerable salary that putting the Commander in charge was not going to turn out the way they were envisioning. It certainly didn’t help that the Commander reportedly despised the UN and anything to do with them. From that, and what little information the UN had given him on the Commander, Patrick deduced that he probably wasn’t going to be that happy ultimately answering to them.

The hallway he was walking through was well lit, the spotless white walls glowing bright from the light reflected from the smooth granite floor. The only indication that there was something within them was the small panel placed at shoulder level. Shifting the tray to one hand, he placed his other on the panel as a red line ran under his palm.

With a hiss, a door-sized section of the wall slid an inch inward and then to the right. Patrick walked in as the door closed behind him with a click. He took a look around the room and a wave of disgust swept over him. He’d been to mansions not as impressive as this, much less _prison_ cells.

The floors were wood and several couches were arranged in the middle of the room around a glass table. A small fireplace was built into the wall, though it was unlit. Near the living room area was a fully functional kitchen, which immediately raised the question of why he bothered having a prison guard bring him food when he could clearly make his own. But what caught his attention were the floor-to-ceiling windows displaying a majestic view of the Colorado Rockies. As he glanced around he noticed that at each respective end of the room there were doors connecting to more rooms. Why would a war criminal be granted such _luxury_?

He walked to the kitchen counter and set the tray down, wondering where the Commander was. If it were up to him, he’d gladly walk out and leave the man to his fate. But he had his orders and commands of the UN were greater than his own. He walked over to one of the brown leather couches and sat down. _Comfortable_ , he mused. At least he wouldn’t have to wait in another German prison.

“You’re new.”

He started at the deep voice and turned around to see a man leaning against the doorframe with a smile on his face. At just over six feet, he had to admit that the lithe, black-haired man was not what he expected. For starters, he was far younger than he assumed. The UN report had estimated his age to be around fifty or sixty, but Patrick found it hard to believe the Commander was any older than forty.

The smile on his face looked completely natural, as if he did it often. A mannerism he hadn’t thought the Commander possessed. _Although_ …that smile didn’t quite meet his brown eyes, which were calculating rather than friendly. The Commander was wearing a plain white shirt and gray pants, honestly not unexpected, but not what Patrick had envisioned.

 _And what was that?_ He chided himself, _You expected him to be wearing his SpecOps gear or something?_ He shook his head.

“Grant is sick,” he began giving the cover story. “I’m just replacing him for today.”

“No, he’s not.” The Commander’s tone was still friendly, but there was a clear underlying warning in it. “Grant always showed up, sick or not. Which means you’re either here to kill me, or because you need me.”

He inwardly sighed. He had told the UN representative that the Commander would probably see through this rather pathetic attempt at subterfuge, but had been overruled. He adopted his normal tone as he stood. “Correct, Commander,” he began. “I’m a representative of the United Nations-“

“Again, you’re not,” The Commander interrupted. “The UN would rather see me dead than work with me and if they wanted me dead, it would be public. Not to mention that they’re too cowardly to use assassins. So tell me, _who are you_?”

“Allow me to correct myself,” Patrick began again. “I represent a _section_ of the UN who had directed me to speak with you regarding… _recent_ issues.”

“Is that right?” The Commander cocked his head thoughtfully. “Interesting. Would you care for a game?”

Patrick frowned. “Excuse me?”

The Commander walked over to a small table in front of the windows overlooking the mountains. On it was a chess board. “Grant would always join me for a game when he delivered my meal. We always had interesting chats.”

He waved his hand at the opposing chair as he sat down. “Take a seat Mr.…?”

“Rush,” Patrick finished. “Patrick Rush. And I believe we have more important matters to address than playing a game of _chess_.”

The Commander smirked. “I see no reason why we can’t play and talk about why the UN is suddenly interested in me.”

Patrick got the distinct impression that the Commander was toying with him. Or testing him; he wasn’t sure which and didn’t know what the correct course of action was. He didn’t want to indulge the Commander and his hobbies, especially with what was going on. But at the same time, he doubted the Commander was giving him much choice.

 _Just who is in charge here?_ That little voice pestered. He ignored it and sat opposite the Commander.

The Commander had his elbows on the table and fingers laced together as he stared at the board. “Black or white?”

Patrick considered the board. He hadn’t played chess in years but he remembered that he had always chosen white for the sole reason that it went first. He almost spoke it when he remembered who he was dealing with. Black was the obvious choice for someone who wanted a quick advantage, but it quickly turned into a liability. Perhaps he could surprise the Commander.

“Black.”

The Commander’s expression didn’t change but Patrick felt that he had passed some kind of test. He turned the board until they had their respective pieces. “Interesting. When given a choice, most take white. Why choose black?”

 _Because that’s what you would have done._ “Because white provides a temporary advantage that is only useful in the early stages of the game. The advantage becomes negated later on and is ultimately useless.”

He had completely made up all of that and hoped that the Commander wouldn’t pry further. He had somewhere lost control of the conversation and was now reacting to everything the Commander was saying. Control had to be regained.

The Commander smiled at the answer, amused. “Your answer is not mine, but I understand it.” He moved a piece. “So, this faction of the UN. The usual powers I assume?”

Patrick moved a piece. “Sixteen countries to be exact. And yes, the United States, Russia, China and the United Kingdom are among them.”

The Commander appraised the board. “No one from the Middle East, I assume.”

Patrick gritted his teeth. “No,” he ground out. “No one from that region. They felt it was best not to include them, given what you did.”

“So, do they have a name?” the Commander moved a piece. “Something official, I bet.”

 

“The Council of Nations,” Patrick answered, attempting to flank the Commander. “Or just the Council.”

“How generic,” He commented as he completely avoided the flank. “Well, I don’t expect much from them anyway.”

“At least they’re _trying_ to work together,” Patrick hissed, unable to keep quiet anymore. “You just kill anyone who slightly disagrees with you!”

The Commander was unperturbed. Steepling his fingers he looked Patrick in the eye. “If I killed everyone who disagreed with me,” he began slowly, his voice low. “The entire United Nations would have been killed along with the terrorists. You clearly have an issue with me so I’ll say this only once.

I had a mission to complete. If people died along the way, so be it. The reason I won was because _I_ used methods that no one else would even consider. _I_ made the call to torch towns full of civilians. _I_ made the call to execute the Vice President once his terrorist ties were exposed. Disagree with my methods all you want, but _I_ won the War on Terror and as a result will be forever condemned,” He took one of Patrick’s pieces. “Your move.”

Patrick didn’t how to respond so he focused on the chess board. Getting into an argument with the Commander was only going to make him angry and it was obvious that neither of them would change their minds. Best to focus on why he was here.

He let out a breath. “I’m not here to argue with you, Commander. I came here for a reason.”

The Commander smiled. “You don’t have to keep referring to my title. I do have a name.”

Patrick shrugged. “Your name was not given to me. ‘Commander’ has always been the name I’ve referred to you as and I see no reason to change it.”

“Hmm…” The Commander pursed his lips, then shrugged. “Well then. Now what would this “Council of Nations” want with me?” He rested his chin on his fist. “It would have to be something major for them to even consider bring me into the fold. Which leaves only a few plausible options…” He raised his index finger. “One, a new terror threat has appeared which I find very unlikely, but if so, could warrant them bringing me back.”

A second finger joined the first. “Two, World War Three is happening and they want me to ensure that they come out on top. Unlikely, I admit. But that’s what happens when you sever my access to current events.” Now holding up three fingers he finished. “Three, an alien invasion has happened and you want me to spearhead the defense.”

Patrick didn’t know if the last point was said in jest. But it was frighteningly accurate. “Now just where would you get that idea?” He pried.

“I had access to quite a lot of classified material,” he responded evenly. “Some of which indicated the existence of extraterrestrial life. I didn’t have time to look into it, but it was certainly interesting to consider.”

Patrick took one of the Commander’s bishops. “Have you ever heard of the XCOM project?”

The Commander bit his lower lip as he observed the board, then took Patrick’s rook. “Once. Just saw the name on a classified document. No idea what it meant.”

Patrick let out a breath. “Your third guess was right Commander. Three days ago, we got confirmed sightings of alien ships.”

The Commander’s head snapped up. “I meant that as a joke Patrick. You’re telling me…”

He nodded. “Earth is facing an invasion.”

The Commander raised a hand. “Are you sure? They could be peaceful. I shouldn’t have to say that you do _not_ want to start a war if you don’t have too.”

“Whatever their intentions, they are not peaceful,” Patrick informed him. “The signature we tracked led to a small town in Florida. The United States sent the Army in to investigate and they found everyone gone.”

“Abducted,” the Commander muttered. “How many?”

“Nearly three thousand, including household pets,” Patrick supplied. He got up and went over to where he had placed the tray down. Underneath it was a file. Returning to the table, he gave a picture to the Commander. “These were placed throughout the town. We believe the aliens used them to subdue the population.”

The thing in the photo was a small, advanced looking pod. Sleek with rounded corners and small holes glowing with some green substance, it was clearly not human.

The Commander stared at the picture. “Was any security footage recovered?”

Patrick took another photo from the file. “Unfortunately no. All electronic devices were destroyed by the aliens. But this was taken by a resident living outside the city. He called 911 claiming that meteors were falling from the sky. Except…”

“They weren’t meteors. They were the pods.”

“Possibly. We don’t know for sure.”

The Commander absently moved a piece and whistled. “How widespread is this? What’s the UN’s response?”

“For reasons of their own, the aliens are keeping quiet for now,” Patrick answered slowly. “The UN is following suit. The leadership is debating whether to try to open negotiations with them. In short, the UN has no clue what to do.”

“How shocking,” the Commander commented dryly. “So the major powers decided to form a Council in response.”

Patrick laced his hands together. “Commander, the Council has been in operation for decades. This is not the first time our world has been visited by aliens. We forced them back before but always knew that they would return one day. A Council comprised of the most influential nations was created, and over decades has slowly and carefully added to that number. They created the XCOM project for one purpose.”

“To defend against an invasion?” The Commander guessed.

Patrick nodded. “Correct. The project has been running on a skeleton crew for years, but is now ready to be moved into full operational status. All we need is a commander.”

“Me.”

“Correct.”

The Commander crossed his arms. “Interesting. I’m sure that this Council has their pick of generals and tacticians. Yet they chose me. Someone who violated every petty ethical law they held dear.”

“You might want to ask them yourself,” Patrick shrugged. “I do not know their reasoning. Perhaps they believe your tactics will be necessary to winning the war. Or because you get results. Either way, they want you to command the XCOM project. Will you do it?”

The Commander was silent for a moment. “I will. If the aliens wish to fight us, I will make them pay dearly for the privilege.” He moved a piece. “Checkmate.”

Patrick look at the board. Well, it wasn’t like he had expected anything differently. He looked at the Commander. “Excellent. I have transport to XCOM HQ waiting. Is there anything you need?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m sure anything essential will be provided for me.” Both of them stood up and began walking towards the exit.

“We got word of another town that just went silent,” he informed the Commander as they walked. “XCOM is sending a team over now. You can observe it on the way to HQ.”

“The first mission, huh? Yes, I’d like to see that.”

“Then this is where we part.” Patrick informed him as they stepped out into the hallway. “Go to the end and take the elevator to the roof. The pilot will do the rest and provide you with any more information you need.”

The Commander frowned. “You’re not coming?”

“No. The Council has other uses for me, though I suspect we’ll meet again.”

The Commander nodded. “Very well,” he extended a hand which Patrick shook. “Thank you for the opportunity. I will not let you down.”

Patrick smiled. “ _Vigilo Confido.”_

“Sorry?”

“The motto of XCOM, ‘ _I am watchful, I am necessary.”_

“Ah, well _Vigilo Confido_ to you as well.”

Patrick saluted him and walked away.

The Commander strode the opposite direction.

***

The Commander took a breath of the fresh mountain air and smiled. Despite the circumstances, he was ecstatic to be free of that gilded cage. No matter how accommodating or comfortable it was, he never forgot that he had been caged like a prize animal. And now the very people who’d locked him up wanted his help.

Well, he wouldn’t be fooled this time. He’d suspected that the possibility of an invasion was why he’d been locked up in the first place instead of executed. He knew far more about this threat than he’d told that UN liaison. He knew about the Outsider Incursion and subsequent cover-up. It wasn’t surprising that this Council thought it wise to prepare for another invasion.

 _But if the UN thinks that they can lock me up again once this is over_ ….No. Don’t think about that yet. Deal with the alien threat first and _then_ figure out how to deal with the UN. He was willing to put his differences aside and work with this Council, but doubted that they would reciprocate. _Hopefully they’ve grown smarter._ Well, they’d chosen him to command the defense so that was a point in their favor.

The roof was nearly deserted, with only a strange aircraft and its pilot on it. The aircraft looked like a normal troop dropship except far smaller with odd engines on the underside of each wing. Stationary takeoff, perhaps? If so he was impressed. Military tech has come a long way in seven years. Or perhaps XCOM had access to superior technology. Yes, that was probably it.

The pilot waiting for him wore a typical aviation suit with a standard pilots helm. As he saw the Commander approach he immediately straightened up and snapped into a salute.

“Commander!” He declared loudly.

“At ease,” the Commander responded automatically and the pilot immediately relaxed. The Commander appraised the ship. “I’ve not seen this design. New or just XCOM tech?”

The pilot tapped the hull. “XCOM tech, Commander. The skyranger has only been released from the prototype stage last year.”

“Troop transport, I assume?”

“Correct, Commander. Designed for small strike teams, the skyranger can reach any location in the world in less than six hours.”

The Commander nodded approvingly. “Impressive. What’s your name, pilot?”

“Jason Olgard. Call sign ‘Big Sky.’”

The Commander extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Commander.” The young pilot said enthusiastically as he took the extended hand.

The Commander indicated the skyranger. “I’ve been informed that a mission is already proceeding. We should head to XCOM HQ as soon as possible.”

“Agreed.” With a hiss the ramp leading into the skyranger came down and both of them walked into the plane. The Commander took one to the six seats available and strapped in. Jason handed him a tablet and headset.

“You’ll be able to access each of the soldiers' bodysuit cameras and issue orders if you want to,” Jason explained. “But the Council left a message for you to view first. I’ll be taking off in five minutes and we should arrive at HQ within the hour.”

The Commander inclined his head. “Thank you, Jason.”

Once he had left, the Commander turned on the tablet and a video loaded. The message from the Council. A silhouetted man sat at a desk with faint blue light behind him. His face was obscured and the deep voiced sounded partially synthesized.

_“Hello, Commander._

_In light of the recent extraterrestrial incursion, this Council of Nations has convened to approve the activation of the XCOM project. You have been chosen to lead this initiative. To oversee our first, and last, line of defense. Your efforts will have considerable impact on this planets future. We urge you to keep that in mind as your proceed._

_Good luck, Commander.”_

He rested the tablet on his lap once the video finished and began accessing the soldiers' bodycams.

_Time to get started. I have a world to save._


	3. First Contact: Sectoid

 

_Skyranger, En route to Abduction Zone_  

The silence would be awkward had they not been flying to fight aliens.

Abigail Gertrude was just trying to stay calm as she clutched her helmet while not fidgeting or showing any sign of nervousness or terror. Privately, she hoped that the helmeted men and woman around her were struggling with the same feelings. But as she looked around the skyranger, each of them were clearly experienced soldiers. Each at ease and familiar with their gear. Just another day for them, another mission.

But not for her. 

For the third time she reflected on the circumstances that had led her to joining a secret military organization devoted to fighting aliens. After graduating from med school, she had been looking at several career options including military work. Looking back, that was probably what had attracted the attention of XCOM, who had sent a man to speak with her.

She’d known from the start that he was a military recruiter, though from his lack of specification, believed he represented some sort of special forces. It turned out that she’d been half-right. The man had been very secretive at first but after threatening to walk away if she didn’t get answers, finally revealed that he represented a paramilitary group devoted to fighting aliens, or simply “XCOM.”

She’d laughed and told him that she was pretty sure she’d notice if aliens invaded and he’d responded by explaining that XCOM was a contingency for that very situation. He’d been deadly serious and she quickly stopped treating it as a joke. He’d given her an offer: she would be free to continue on with her life as normal and would receive a rather large salary in addition to whatever career she decided to pursue. But if XCOM was ever mobilized, she would have to join on the front lines.

In retrospect, accepting his offer was probably incredibly stupid. But really, could anyone blame her? What were the chances of an alien invasion? Astronomically small, she had believed. Besides, she needed the money to pay off some debts from med school.

Fortunately, for reasons unrelated to aliens or XCOM, she had decided to join the Marine Corps as a field surgeon and had enjoyed nearly three months of basic training before three men in armor showed up in the middle of the night, telling her that the XCOM project had been activated and she was to come with them.

They’d flown her to an underground base and had hastily fitted her with some kind of combat armor (which was surprisingly light!), slapped an assault rifle and pistol in her hands and ordered her, along with five others, into the plane called a skyranger. She’d zoned out for most of that, unable or unwilling to fully process what was happening. She’d nodded and followed orders like a good soldier. Only now did she realize how in over her head she really was.

She barely knew _how_ to fire a gun, much less be on the front lines waging a war against such an advanced species. She was a medic, _not_ a soldier and had tried to tell the man outfitting her that. His response had been “Good! We need as many of you as possible. Take these in case you need them.” He’d handed her a small rectangular device with a handle and short nozzle along with a small package containing some basic medical equipment. “Med-kit,” he’d explained. “Uses nanotech to seal up wounds and repair damaged organs. Only has a few charges though, so use them well. Otherwise you have your basic surgery tools.”

To be honest, if she wasn’t being sent to her likely death, she would be amazed and ecstatic that something like the med-kit had been invented. She was able to envision _so_ many possibilities for its use.

As she was speaking with another soldier, she learned that the med-kit was _not_ the only breakthrough from XCOM. The Brazilian, Kim Cortez, had told her that the weapons handed out were at _least_ five years ahead of anything in modern militaries and the armor was at least ten years ahead.

There were probably other inventions from XCOM that she just hadn’t seen and was looking forward to learning exactly what they were.

If she survived this mission.

Aside from Kim, she hadn’t spoken much to any of the other soldiers on the skyranger. All she’d been told was the squad overseer was Liam Jaster, who happened to be the large man sitting directly across from her. _Overseer_ was a rather odd word choice. Most militaries normally used terms like _leader_ or _commander_. But it was becoming clear to her that XCOM was no ordinary military. In fact, she wasn’t entirely convinced it _was_ one. It appeared to be run more like a special forces unit rather than an actual military.

_“Heads up Strike team. You’re heading into Georgia,”_ She looked up where the installed speaker was. She frowned, trying to remember that voice. He’d briefly addressed them before leaving…who was it? _“The town went dark nearly twelve hours ago, if we’re lucky, there may be survivors. We’ll be monitoring at HQ.”_ Bradford. That was his name, _Central Officer Bradford_.

“Assuming that these aliens exist.” The woman sitting next to her muttered.

“You don’t think they do?” Abby questioned, just to make conversation.

She snorted, her helmet making the noise harsher. “Let’s just say I’m skeptical. Don’t you think that if this was an invasion, people _besides_ XCOM would know about it?”

“I doubt that we’d have been mobilized if they hadn’t been sure,” the man to her right cut in, his French accent pronounced. “It seems like a waste of time otherwise.”

The woman leaned back and Abby guessed she was smirking. “ _Sure_ , Shawn. There is _no_ possible way that XCOM command could be wrong.”

“Let’s hope they are.” Abby muttered quietly, folding her hands together.

The woman turned and appraised her. “This your first mission?”

“Yes,” she answered quietly.

“Just stay in cover and follow orders,” Liam Jaster spoke up suddenly. “You’ll do fine.”

“Thanks.”

“Huh,” the woman commented. “Didn’t think they’d recruit rookies. What were you before?”

“A surgeon. Specializing in high-risk and time-sensitive surgeries.” She replied.

The man sitting to Liam’s right whistled. “Combat medic, nice. Glad you’re here, though if we all do our jobs right, we won’t need you.”

“Agreed,” the woman nodded. She extended her hand to Abby. “Myra Rodriguez, former Mexican GAFE.”

Abby took her hand. “Abby Gertrude, former three month member of the US Marines.”

Myra chuckled. “Well, you know how to use a gun at least.”

“Since we’re making introductions,” the man to her right said. “Shawn Cage, former French Army. Not as impressive as the Mexican special forces, Myra, but I’m pretty good at what I do.”

“I’m sure we’ll see soon.” Myra pointed at the man next to Liam. “You’re next.”

The man gave a sigh, amplified by his helmet. “Ernest Sims, Irish Army Infantry Brigade Three.”

Liam looked around at the soldiers waiting for him to answer. “You know who I am. I don’t need to repeat myself.”

“C’mon,” Shawn insisted. “We’ve got pretty diverse backgrounds here, you must have come from _somewhere_.”

 

“Fine. Liam Jaster, classified.”

 

“Cop-out,” Myra commented good-naturedly. “Is there _anything_ you can tell us?”

Liam looked directly at her. “Do you really want to know?”

Abby crossed her arms. “I think everyone does.”

“Very well. I was a counter-terrorist operative.”

Shawn clicked his teeth. “You mean you worked for…”

“ _Russian_ counter-terrorism. I never had the _pleasure_ of meeting the so-called ‘Commander.’”

Abby felt a small surge of relief at hearing that. She wasn’t sure how she would have felt if one of the Commander’s soldiers was working with them. True, she shouldn’t hold each of them accountable for the actions of one man, but still…if even a quarter of the stories she’d heard about the Commander’s war on terror were true, _not_ counting his final atrocity…

Well, he was dead now. And she firmly believed he was burning in a special level of hell for people like him. She shook her head, pushing those thoughts aside. She looked at Kim. “Your turn,” she said, inclining her head in his direction.

“Kim Cortez, former Brazilian Navy.”

Myra nodded. “Nice to meet you all. Let’s do our jobs well so we can head home.”

Liam nodded. “Agreed-“

_“This is Fallen Sky to Strike One,”_ their pilot interrupted. _“We’ve almost reached the landing zone. Prepare for deployment.”_

“Take positions!” Liam ordered the squad as he stood up to grasp one of the handles on the ceiling. Abby flipped her helmet around and placed it on her head. With a hiss of air and a click she was briefly blind. She gasped as the helmet’s HUD lit up and her screen filled with information.

In the lower right-hand view of her display, there was a small replica of her assault rifle with an ammo counter. _The suits are networked to the weapons?_ Apparently so. Opposite that was her name and rank: Private Abby Gertrude. On the bottom center of the display were several icons, a grenade and a medical cross with 1x and 2x on them respectively. It was incredible how sophisticated this technology was. She assumed that if she used the grenade she’d been given, the number under the grenade icon would turn to zero. Amazing.

She stood up and grabbed the handle as she looked around and discovered that if she focused on one of the soldiers, their name and rank would be displayed in a small rectangle above them.

_“Deployment in thirty seconds.”_ Came the warning from Fallen Sky.

“Brace for landing!” Liam ordered, shifting his feet into a more secure stance. Each of them followed suit, though there were clear differences between them. The plane shuddered but none of them were shaken.

“Contact,” Liam stated, letting go of the handle. “Ready weapons.”

There was a clattering and hissing as assault rifles were unhooked from the slots on their armor. Heart pounding, Abby reached for hers and was pleased that her hands barely trembled.

With a squealing of metal, the ramp lowered onto the pavement with a clang.

“Deploy!” Liam ordered and they rushed out into the street.

With a loud clamp, the ramp closed and the skyranger flew off.

_“This is Fallen Sky to Central. Strike Team has been deployed at the town entrance, initiating Hawkeye Protocol. Squad Overseer, radio for extraction.”_

“Understood, Fallen Sky,” Liam replied. “Central, this is squad Overseer Jaster. We’re prepared to do a full sweep of the town. Permission to proceed?”

_“Permission granted. Bring any surviving civilians in for questioning.”_

“Will do, Overseer Jaster, out.” He turned to them.

While he was talking, Abby looked around. The town was rather small from what she could see. In front of her were some large office buildings and small stores, mostly those found in the older parts of town. There were even more buildings around the sides. The task seemed daunting. How could the six of them possibly search this entire area?

“Listen up!” Liam began. “We’re going to start by sweeping this street. There’ll be two teams, one per side. Me, Abby and Shawn will take the left. Myra, Kim and Ernest will take the right. Questions?”

She felt that it was obvious, but nobody was asking it. “How are we going to clear the entire town with just six of us?” It was probably a stupid question, but this was her first mission. She could be forgiven for asking basic questions, right?

“We’re not,” was the reply. “The last time this happened, several strange pods were found. If we tamper with them, the aliens will probably come to investigate.”

“So we’re looking for evidence of alien activity?”

“Correct. Now follow me.” They strode quietly to a closed door leading into a jewelry store. Shawn and Liam took positions either side of it while she leaned beside the corner. She gripped her rifle harder, trying her best to overcome the shaking throughout her body from the adrenaline coursing through it.

Liam gently gripped the door handle and pushed. Apparently seeing nothing, he charged in as Abby held her breath.

“ _Clear_.” She heard and let out a breath.

“Abby, come with me. Shawn, stay on the outside and proceed slowly.”

“Copy, Overseer.”

Abby quickly entered the building and took shelter behind a shelf. _Deep breaths_. Nothing here. Nothing here yet. Liam had also taken cover behind the shelf and motioned her up.

“Blink twice,” he whispered. She frowned but complied and gasped as her HUD filled with images.

“Cover integrity indicators,” he explained. “The more the shield is filled, the better cover it is. Very distracting I know, but it’s a lifesaver in firefights. Got it?”

She nodded, blinked twice, and the blue shields disappeared. Liam pointed to the door at the other side of the store. “That door connects these buildings. We’re going to move through slowly until we reach it. Keep your eyes peeled and _never_ stay out in the open. Ready?”

Finding it difficult to speak, she just nodded. They both advanced though the store slowly and carefully. She was probably being overly cautious, but deeply appreciated that Liam was indulging her and keeping at her pace. They finally reached the door and took up positions beside it.

_“Overseer,”_ She started as Shawn’s voice broke in unexpectedly. _“I’ve found one of the pods. Instructions on how to proceed?”_

“Stay there and wait for me,” Liam ordered. Addressing Abby, he continued. “Assume an overwatch position. You’ll hear from me soon.”

“Overwatch?”

“Sorry, military term. Means you’re to look out for enemies and be ready to fire. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

He quietly opened the door, so she wouldn’t be surprised if anything came through. Then he left, though not before giving a reassuring slap on her shoulder. The seconds dragged on like minutes as she frantically looked in every direction for _something_. She kept this up for what felt forever and glanced at the clock hanging in the store.

Five minutes.

_Seriously_? She allowed herself to relax a little. There was no way she could keep up this level of awareness without _something_ in her snapping. _Deep breaths. In and out._

Her eyes snapped wide open and her rifle shot up as she heard scuttling and her body started shaking again. She frantically looked every which way, trying to find the noise. The shaking only got worse when she heard _chittering_ that did _not_ sound normal.

“I think I heard something!” She hissed into her helmet.

_“Unsurprising,”_ came Liam’s reply. _“Shawn is tinkering with the pod. We might have-“_

“No!” she nearly shouted, her voice trembling. “There’s something _in this building!_ ”

_“Acknowledged. Keep calm Abby. Shawn’s on his way.”_

“Thank you.” She breathed emphatically, calming down at the thought of not being alone anymore.

She turned back, looking into the connecting shop when she saw it.

A gray, scrawny, naked _thing_ with long fingers, a large head, bulbous eyes, no mouth and _something_ attached to its arm.

_“Contact!”_ She screamed and let loose with her rifle.

Every bullet missed, of course and the alien scampered away on all fours and took cover behind a desk. Through her hail of gunfire she spotted _three_ more of the things, all taking up cover positions.

_“Myra! Converge on Abby’s position immediately!”_

_“On it!”_

_“Abby, how many are there?!”_

“I..I..” she stuttered as the she heard strange whooshing sounds frighteningly near her. A green bolt of _something_ hit the column right behind her.

_“Answer me! How many?!”_

“Four!” she shouted. “In the connecting building!”

_“Got it. Shawn, give them something to think about!”_

She decided to take a risk and peek out. Her HUD flashed with a reticule on the alien’s large head. It seemed to be chittering to its friends so she raised her rifle and was surprised when a percentage number appeared next to the alien’s head. She frowned, not sure what it was. The percentage rapidly increased or decreased when she tried to line up a shot. Was it telling her how good a shot she had?

She spent a few precious seconds trying to line up a shot but couldn’t get the percentage indicator to rise any higher than sixty-one percent. Oh well, it was the best she could do. She squeezed the trigger and stumbled back from the recoil but was rewarded with the beautiful sight of the alien lying dead in a pool of yellow blood.

“I did it!” she crowed, elated. “I got one!”

_“Nice shot,”_ came the voice of Shawn. _“My turn!”_

She blinked twice and the cover indicator came up. She was in decent cover now and felt it best not to move. An explosion shook the building and she peeked in to see most of the wall facing the street was gone. The now-flanked aliens scuttled away, chittering furiously, and she took the opportunity to take a rather poor thirty-percent shot, which missed, of course.

Shawn and Liam had far better luck. Their bullets tore into the retreating aliens backs and legs. One was killed outright and another was shot in the leg. As it pulled itself away, Shawn abandoned caution and charged the wounded creature. Too wounded to respond, it only stared up as Shawn unloaded several bullets at point-blank range into it’s face.

_“Overseer!”_ Myra’s voice cut in. _“We’ve made contact with…something!”_

“Short gray creatures?” Liam probed as all of them took up positions to corner the final alien.

_“Affirmative. Four to be exact. One is taken care of, we can handle it.”_

“Acknowledged,” Liam answered as green bolts flew past his head. “It missed!” he roared at Abby and Shawn. “Return fire!”

She tried lining up a shot, but the alien had very good cover behind the window. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t get anything higher than forty percent. She brought up the cover indicator and saw some that might give her a better angle. Dashing towards it, she almost missed that the alien was rising to fire.

“DROP!” Shawn yelled frantically and without thinking Abby collapsed to the floor as the green bolts barely missed her head.

“Covering fire!” Liam yelled and the sound of bullets filled the air. Lying flat against the ground, with the sound of splintering wood above her, she couldn’t see if he hit anything.

She heard Shawn’s voice in her ear. “Abby, crawl forward. _Slowly_!” She did until she felt a wall. Looking up, she realized she was right next to the window the alien was hiding behind.

Panic almost overtook her and she began hyperventilating.

“Abby, throw your grenade out the window.” Liam ordered, then she noticed a strange strand of purple heading directly toward him, but so faint she wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. “Ah…!” Liam clutched his head.

“What’s wrong?” Shawn demanded as he took a shot.

“Headache…something…I’m not thinking clearly…”

“Abby, throw the grenade!”

“It’ll blow me up at this range!”

“You’ve got an AP! You’ll be fine!”

“What?!”

“Just do it!”

She grabbed the grenade and pulled the pin, praying that she wouldn’t kill herself and tossed it out the window. Hearing a discharge and an alien squeal, she believed it had worked. Shawn dashed up to the window and peered out.

“Got it,” he commented, nodding at her. “Nice throw.”

Through shaky breaths she answered. “Thanks, thought I was going to die. What kind of grenade is that?”

“Come see for yourself.” She stood up and peered out the window. If she hadn’t been a surgeon, she might have thrown up. The alien lay in several pieces, shrapnel jutting out of it’s body and most of the skin flayed off.

“Anti-personnel grenade,” Shawn continued. “Absolutely deadly to unarmored soldiers. Aliens as well, it seems.”

They walked back over to Liam and Abby kneeled beside him. Shawn stood back. “This is your specialty, doc.”

She didn’t hear him. “Liam? Can you hear me?”

He coughed. “Yes, yes. I’m fine.”

“You didn’t sound fine.”

“I wasn’t. But it’s gone now, I think that alien did something to me.”

“What?”

He groaned. “It was like having a migraine, but worse. I couldn’t think clearly and my vision was blurred, or maybe that was just my imagination. Regardless, my ability to concentrate was seriously compromised.”

She nodded. “I’ll do my best to help. But one of the doctors back at HQ should probably look at you.”

_“This is Myra,”_ her voice interrupted. _“All threats have been neutralized. I think that’s the last of them.”_

Abby helped Liam stand. “Good work,” he told Myra. “We’re finished here too. If there were more, they’d have probably come to help. I’m calling in Fallen Sky. We’re done here.” Liam gently pushed her off and began slowly walking to the extraction point with Abby and Shawn following close behind.

“Fallen Sky, this is Overseer Jaster. We’re done down here. Send in extraction and artifact recovery.”

“ _Acknowledged, Overseer Jaster. Coming in five. Good work down there.”_

“Artifact recovery?” Abby asked.

“XCOM wants all alien corpses and weapons for study,” Shawn answered. “Artifact recovery just means recovering all the alien corpses and devices.”

She nodded. Hopefully whoever was in charge knew what they were doing. She let out a long breath. It was over. She’d done it _and_ gotten a couple kills. Not a bad day, all things considered.

“That went well.” She said, smiling.

“Agreed,” Shawn nodded. “You did well, for a rookie.”

She punched him in the arm. “I believe I got two of them, what did _you_ get again?”

He chuckled. “Point taken.”

“Hold off the celebration,” Liam interrupted. “We got lucky this time. We surprised them and can’t rely on that again. It’s only going to get harder from here.”

“Killjoy,” Shawn muttered.

As much as she knew he was right. Abby felt a sense of pride in what had been accomplished today. It may not have been much in the big picture, but it was a start and she felt far better prepared for whatever came next. As the skyranger roared by, she holstered her rifle and began walking to the plane that would take her to her new home.

***

_Skyranger, En Route to XCOM Headquarters_

The Commander shut off the tablet and leaned back. He had briefly considered taking command several times, but ultimately decided against it until he knew more about XCOM’s capabilities.

So, he had actual proof that aliens _were_ in fact real, and conducting operations on Earth. Not that he hadn’t believed it before…but it was one thing to be told it was happening and another to see it himself. He highly doubted that these were the only aliens just based on their physical appearance because they were far too weak to sustain an invasion.

No. The soldier Jaster was right. This was only the beginning.

He scowled. He sincerely hoped that XCOM HQ had a decent amount of information because that was the most essential element to winning a war. He needed their tactics, strengths, weaknesses and strategies and could only make some basic guesses from the short fight he had witnessed.

But he suspected he was going to have to start at square one. He appreciated a challenge, but he felt time was of the essence here. He couldn’t spend years analyzing them and _then_ making a move. He had to defend Earth _now_. Unfortunately, there wasn’t going to be time for his usual plans. A shame, but he could make it work.

At least he seemed to have some excellent soldiers. XCOM hadn’t skimped on recruiting the best, it seemed. Rodriguez and Jaster seemed excellent leaders, aside from a few questionable calls, which he could easily fix. The rest of them had done their jobs well and he’d been impressed with Abby in particular. She had nearly panicked a few times, yet still managed to pull herself together. Impressive. Rookies tended to do poorly in firefights in the beginning, not to mention against aliens. He’d have to keep an eye on her.

The Russian, Liam Jaster might be a problem. It all depended on how much of his past the Council decided to reveal. If they were smart that was a decision they would leave up to _him_. Based on that little exchange in the skyranger, they didn’t exactly have pleasant thoughts about him. Unimportant. He had stopped caring about public opinion unless it directly affected him and saw no reason to start caring now.

_“This is Big Sky_ ,” Jason informed him, disrupting his train of thought. _“Commander, we’ll be at XCOM HQ within three minutes. Stand by.”_

The Commander strapped in and folded his hands. He was very curious to see the capabilities of the XCOM project and more importantly, to take command of it.

*** 

After-Action Report

Operation: Fallen Star

 

_Personnel:_

Strike 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Private Liam Jaster

            **Status** : Active

**Recorded Kills: 1**

 

Strike 2: Private Myra Rodriguez

            **Status** : Active

            **Recorded Kills** : 3

 

Strike 3: Private Ernest Sims

            **Status** : Active

            **Recorded Kills** : 1

 

Strike 4: Private Shawn Cage

            **Status** : Active

            **Recorded Kills** : 1

 

Strike 5: Private Kim Cortez

            **Status** : Active

            **Recorded Kills** : 0

 

Strike 6: Private Abigail Gertrude

 

            **Status** : Active

            **Recorded Kills** : 2

 

Mission Director: Central Officer Bradford

Pilot: Tristan Ward – Call sign: “Fallen Sky”

 

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-6x Alien Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-1x Alien Corpse (Acceptable Damage)

-1x Alien Corpse (Unsalvageable)

-12x Alien Weapon Fragments

-6x Alien Alloys

-2x Alien Pods


	4. The Citadel

 

_XCOM Headquarters_

The Commander unstrapped and stood up, rolling his shoulders as the ramp descended with a prolonged hiss. He began walking out and leapt off the edge of the ramp rather than wait for it to hit the ground. He clasped his hands behind his back and took his first good look at the hangar.

It was small compared with traditional military hangars. The area was slightly larger than the size of a baseball field but as he looked up he saw slots carved into the walls that held the actual fighter jets. He counted only six. Not many, but these planes likely had enhancements that were not easily reproduced. He’d have to see their capabilities.

A door in the wall opposite him slid open and a man walked through. Wearing a green sweater and a headset, the Commander assumed he was one of the analysists, perhaps the chief one. He began walking towards him.

Once they were close enough, the man stopped and snapped into a salute.

“Welcome to XCOM HQ, Commander,” he began. “I’m Central Officer Bradford.”

“Bradford,” the Commander repeated. “You were directing the first operation, correct.”

“Yes, Commander. Had I known you were this close I’d have waited for you to arrive.”

The Commander smiled. “At ease. No, if you had waited, the aliens would have left and we’d have nothing.”

Bradford relaxed and both began walking towards the door. “I assume your duties involve analysis and administration?” The Commander asked as they walked through the door into the lit hallway.

“Yes, Commander. My efforts will allow you to focus on the big picture without becoming mired in the day-to-day details as well as providing you with tactical advice.”

He smiled. “I appreciate that. Though if you do need something from me, don’t hesitate to ask.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Commander,” Bradford answered tactfully. “But the Council believes you should be completely focused on the alien threat-”

The Commander raised a hand as they made a turn. “Let’s make one thing clear, Bradford. Just because the Council wants or expects something does not mean they will get it. The people under my command are more important and that includes you.”

Bradford was clearly at a loss. “Ah, thank you Commander. Though I would suggest _not_ antagonizing the Council.”

“Provided they work with me, I will not.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes. “How much has the Council told you about me?” He asked.

“They told me you’ve directed several major black ops teams and have extensive experience in intelligence and guerilla warfare,” Bradford shrugged. “No specifics, but I trust that the Council made the right call.”

The Commander glanced over and the corners of his lips turned up. “You’d like to know, though. Wouldn’t you?”

Tactful as ever, Bradford answered. “That is your prerogative, Commander.”

He sighed. Respect for the chain of command was excellent, to a point. One of the reasons he preferred espionage operations was because the atmosphere was far more relaxed. Or at least it had been that way with him. People who had questions or problems for him were encouraged to speak up and give their perspective. He despised it when people kept their mouths shut in a misguided respect for the chain of command. Well, that was going to be one of the first things he changed here.

“I was a terrorist hunter,” he told Bradford who involuntarily stiffened. “And yes, I was part of _his_ team.”

“Ah, if you don’t mind me asking…”

“I don’t.”

“Just…how involved _were_ you?”

“Heavily. Until he killed the Vice President.”

“I…see.”

He stopped walking and Bradford turned to face him. “Is this a problem?” He asked.

Bradford hesitated. “No sir. Whatever you were…involved in…it’s in the past now. Though I appreciate you telling me.”

He nodded. “Don’t mention it. This isn’t going to be run like a typical military operation, Bradford. You don’t have to fear speaking your mind simply because I might disagree. I like to encourage different perspectives and have an open door policy. If you want to speak to me about something, don’t be afraid to come. Spread that around if you would, it’ll be more effective coming from you.”

“I’ll do that, Commander.” Bradford promised. At the end of the hallway, the door hissed opened and they stepped into another room.

Computers and monitors were placed throughout the room in a square formation, all surrounding the obvious centerpiece; a massive hologlobe displaying Earth. Analysts were at their stations and barely noticed the new arrivals.

“Welcome to Mission Control, Commander,” Bradford declared. “This is where we find and analyze alien activity as well as oversee ground operations.”

“Impressive,” the Commander commented. “Is it difficult pinpointing alien activity?”

Bradford scratched his head. “At the moment, yes. But that is expected. My team is constantly getting better at recognizing and pinpointing the alien signatures. Dr. Shen has developed a satellite that will make our job easier, but production on it is awaiting your approval.”

“Dr. Shen?”

“Head of XCOM Engineering,” Bradford explained. “Come this way.”

* * *

 

Engineering was impressive, to say the least.

Conveyor belts with robotic assembly arms were placed along the wall and work stations were scattered throughout the room, some of them with engineers working at them.

“Dr. Shen!” Bradford called out at one of the engineers. The man looked up and removed his safety goggles. He was the oldest person the Commander had seen so far. But he had no doubt that the balding man before him was the best at what he did.

“Ah, Commander, I’m glad you stopped by.” He greeted as he adjusted his glasses.

The Commander inclined his head as he shook his hand. “Dr. Shen. A pleasure to meet you. You have an impressive operation going down here.”

Shen smiled with pride. “That we do. Anything they can dream up in the research labs, we can build it here. I can proudly say that our little workshop is the best in the world.”

“Good to hear,” the Commander said. “Because we’re going to need every advantage against the aliens.”

“My team and I will do our best,” Shen promised. “If you have time later, I’d like to show you some preliminary designs and tech awaiting your approval.”

“I’ll make sure to come back,” the Commander promised. “I’m curious about your capabilities.”

“I look forward to it.” Shen replied with a smile.

They left Shen to his work and walked away.

“Where to next?” the Commander asked Bradford.

“The research labs,” Bradford answered. “This way.”

* * *

 

The labs were far smaller than the engineering bay. But no less sophisticated. Tables covered in lab equipment were dotted throughout the room with a few scientists working at them. One the walls were tubes which he assumed were for storing samples. A woman noticed their entrance and walked toward them.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw the brown-haired sharp-tonged German woman in an XCOM-issue lab coat. Interesting. He hadn’t expected to see her here.

“Commander,” she greeted. Her accent not quite as pronounced as he remembered. “A pleasure to meet you. My name is doctor-“

“Vahlen,” the Commander finished with a small smile. “Dr. Vahlen. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She took a step back, clearly surprised. Bradford was equally confused. “You two…know each other?”

The Commander shook his head. “Not personally. But when one of the most prominent scientists in the world suddenly goes missing with _no_ media coverage whatsoever, it tends to attract attention of certain people. Like me.”

He appraised the woman clutching a tablet in her hand. “I had wondered what happened to you. You vanished about eight years ago, leading me to suspect that you were an unfortunate casualty in the War on Terror.”

Vahlen got her voice back. “I’m pleased to say I wasn’t, Commander. Though there were a few close calls.”

“I’d imagine. So what have you been doing for these past years?”

She swept her arm, indicating the room. “Preparing. _This_ is where all of XCOM’s research and development takes place. With the help of Dr. Shen and his team, we’ve been able to reach the pinnacle of weapon and armor technology for use against the alien threat. Unfortunately, we’ve hit a wall due to a lack of advanced resource. But now with the aliens revealed to us, I’d like to begin researching their technology to use against them.”

The Commander nodded. “Compile a list of projects for me. I want at least three when I come back. Then we can discuss specifics. I want to know everything about these creatures.”

“We can both agree on that,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll get started immediately.”

* * *

 

“This is the situation room, Commander.” Bradford explained as they entered the final major room. About the size of a conference room, a holotable set in the middle and a massive screen took up the wall behind it. On it was a map of the world and at each end were the names of sixteen countries with five rhombuses beneath each of them.

“We’re keeping track of civilian panic within each of the Council countries,” Bradford explained. “Each rhombus will turn red when panic increases. If panic gets out of control, that Council member may withdraw from the XCOM project.”

“An empty threat,” the Commander dismissed. “Unless there is another organization like us, they have no one else to protect them. Withdrawing wouldn’t make sense.”

“I hope you’re right,” Bradford answered, clearly unconvinced. “Speaking of which, the Council wishes to speak to you now.”

He pressed a button and the map and names disappeared and was replaced by the shadowy Council spokesman who’d greeted him on the initial video.

“I want to speak to him,” he told Bradford. “Alone.”

He nodded. “Of course, Commander.” Once the door closed behind him, the Commander crossed his arms and looked at the spokesman.

“I presume you represent the Council. I have some questions.”

_“Your tone is unnecessary. I will answer.”_

“Good. Why would you want me? Was this the reason I wasn’t executed?”

_“Correct, Commander. While your methods were, and still are, extreme, we felt that they would be necessary in the case of an alien invasion.”_

“You say that,” the Commander raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But the moment I do something “extreme” this Council will call for my head. Again.”

_“We are not the United Nations, Commander. Most of the Council would prefer that you retain full autonomy. But some members of the Council may feel…otherwise.”_

He sighed. “Of course. Why should I expect anything differently? So I am going to say this only once,” he began pacing while the spokesman appraised him. “Let me be completely clear. If you try to shackle me, I will ignore you. If you try to remove me, I will respond in kind. You want me to do a job, so _let me do it._ Do I make myself clear?”

_“Perfectly…Commander. But I cannot guarantee complete approval of your actions.”_

“Let me worry about that,” the Commander said. “Now, from what you’ve said it sounds like bringing me back was not a unanimous decision. Who was against it?”

_“That information is-“_

“Who. Were. They?” The spokesman was silent. The Commander sighed.

“Listen, you can tell me so I can prepare for the inevitable fallout, or I’ll have to come to my own conclusions. Which outcome suits you best?”

_“You imply that you already have…controversial plans. Can you give some indication as to the…extent…of them?”_

The Commander scowled. “I don’t have anything concrete. I’ve been in command less than a day. But this is war. I would not be surprised if countries have to be sacrificed. Overrun or captured cities may have to be annexed. I’ll do what I can to minimize civilian casualties, but they will not be my priority.”

 _“Understand this,”_ the shadowy spokesman jabbed a finger at the screen. _“A situation similar to Mecca will not be tolerated. We are being generous by giving you a second chance. Betrayal of that trust will not just have severe consequences for you, but for everyone you’ve ever cared about.”_

The Commander clenched his fists, responses blazing through his mind. It was an empty threat. Everyone he had ever cared about was dead. This _spokesman_ knew nothing of loss. He knew _nothing_ of conflict. Nothing of _cost_. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once he had composed himself he opened his eyes and addressed the spokesman.

“We can threaten each other all day,” he said slowly. Calmly. “But I don’t think this is the kind of relationship we should have.”

_“On this we agree.”_

“Alright,” the Commander inclined his head. “Let’s do this. We start over. Everything is in the past; I forget my three years on the run and seven years in prison, and you forget my, ah, “ _war crimes_.””

_“We are not able to so easily forgive what you did, Commander. However, we both have a common goal; the survival of mankind.”_

“Agreed, but you and I both know that I can’t completely devote myself to the defense of Earth if I have to worry about being hindered by people with a grudge against me,” the Commander insisted. “So I need to know; who should I watch out for?”

There was silence for a few seconds.

_“Egypt, Australia, France, the United Kingdom, Canada and the United States.”_

The Commander let his face betray no emotion. Egypt made sense, they had been close to several of his operations and he’d removed several high-ranking terrorists who also happened to be government officials. Short-sighed fools.

Australia, France, the UK and Canada probably protested him on moral grounds. Something he believed had no place in war. Only the UK and Canada might actually prove troublesome, but not worth worrying about yet. He was fairly confident that he could negate any problems Australia and France caused him, but he’d have to be careful. _As usual_.

The United States. As much as he was expecting it, he still felt betrayed. He’d served for decades and they’d abandoned him when the political cost became too high. It honestly wasn’t unexpected and he’d known that when making his decisions. But sacrifices had to be made. Now as to the USA posing a threat to him, he didn’t know. It was entirely possible they felt they needed to placate the Council, so their apparent protest of him _might_ be fabricated. That wouldn’t surprise him, but until he knew for sure, they would be treated as any other potential threat.

Interesting that Russia hadn’t protested. Then again, Russia had been rather supportive of his methods until they involved the death of the Russian president. Sadly, that forced their hand into working with the USA to hunt him down. He supposed that they felt enough time had passed that they could covertly support him again. A lot to think about.

“Thank you,” he told the spokesman. “In the interest of preserving a civil working relationship, what would be the appropriate steps if a country moves against me?”

_“That is something that can be discussed if it comes up. You have the support of this Council for now, Commander. Do not disappoint us.”_

He smirked. “I will do my best.”

_“Very well. We will be watching.”_

The screen went dark and was replaced by the global map.

He took a deep breath.

That had gone about as well as he’d expected. The Council had to know that he’d wasn’t going to be their puppet or follow blindly without question. If they expected him to be grateful for this so-called “second chance” that was fine, but that certainly did not translate to _loyalty_. He smirked. Loyalty. That was one word that the Council and United Nations didn’t understand. They spent too much time fighting among themselves to ever truly be useful. This divide the Council had concerning him…it could be exploited if done correctly. There had to be some way to negate the Council so he could fully focus on the aliens.

But that would have to be done some other day. Until some foolish country tried to restrict him, all his attention would be focused on the invasion. Pushing all thoughts of the Council and UN, he left the room where Bradford was waiting outside.

* * *

 

Bradford was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “How did it go?”

“As well as I expected,” he responded. “If we do our job, they shouldn’t cause any problems. Though since the UN is behind them, it remains to be seen if they keep their word.”

“Ah,” Bradford began hesitantly. “You don’t have much faith in them.”

“No. But I do know that they’ll look out for themselves and I can use that.” He shook his head. “But I’ll worry about the Council and UN later. Is there anything else you want to show me?”

Bradford began walking and motioned the Commander to follow. “Just your office.”

It was only a short distance from the Situation Room. They stopped in front of the black doors and Bradford placed his hand on the palm scanner and lowered his eye for the retinal scanner. “For security reasons, “ he explained unnecessarily. “Now that you’re here, this room will be secured with your biometrics.” With a hiss the door slid open.

Bradford flipped a light switch and bright white lights illuminated the room. At first glance it was about the size of a regular office and there was a traditional table with opposing chairs. But that was where the similarities ended. On the desk were three monitors with communication equipment and headset resting on it as well. Directly behind it was a massive monitor displaying the vitals and armor cams of the Strike Team. Ignoring Bradford, he went to look at what was on the desk monitors.

One monitor showed the same images as the screen behind him, the other two showed a smaller scale version of the Situation Room data and the other showed data and personnel information on XCOM HQ.

“Each of the monitors can individually be lowered into the desk as well as choosing the display of each screen,” Bradford explained helpfully. “You can directly oversee and command every aspect of an operation as well as issue orders within XCOM HQ.”

“XCOM HQ.” the Commander repeated as he sat down and grasped the mouse and began getting used to the system.

“Armor cams and certain systems can also be brought up via voice commands,” Bradford continued. “It should work well for you, Commander.”

“Without a doubt,” he answered distractedly and smiled as he found the edit button under the designation “ _XCOM Headquarters_.” He deleted it and began typing.

Bradford looked down and cocked his head, puzzled. “ _The Citadel_? Why are you changing the name?”

“I find names such as “XCOM HQ” to be very…what’s the word? _Generic_? Everyone knows this is XCOM HQ, it doesn’t need to _actually_ be called that. I find the _Citadel_ rather fitting, last defense of humanity and all that. Besides, it’s more of a tradition for me; every base of operations I’ve overseen has been called the _Citadel_ , I don’t see a reason to change now. Will this be a problem?”

Bradford shook his head. “No, Commander. I’ll let the staff know the name change.”

“Then I think I’ll start working.” the Commander stated as he turned his focus to the screens.

“Very well, Commander. In the next room you’ll also find your quarters. The engineers decided to combine the rooms to save space.”

“Good idea,” the Commander acknowledged. “When is the Strike Team scheduled to return?”

“Within the hour.”

“When they get back, I want to speak to Jaster, Rodriguez and Gertrude. They don’t have to rush, but I want to see them today.”

Bradford nodded. “Understood, Commander.” And left him to begin the task of running XCOM.

* * *

 

_Skyranger 2, Pilot: Fallen Sky_

The ride back on the skyranger had been far more relaxed than that tense ride over. Shawn Cage supposed that successfully killing a bunch of aliens had that effect on people. Both teams had each told their stories and he’d not been surprised in the least when Myra claimed three kills out of the four aliens she and her team had encountered.

Liam had been unsurprisingly quiet. Probably thinking about that weird alien mind trick. Which Shawn understood, he really did. But there’d be plenty of time to focus on the grim, depressing stuff later. Couldn’t he just enjoy one hour of victory? Nah, he knew his type, all gruff and serious, he probably didn’t know the meaning of the word _relaxing_.

Whatever. At least everyone else had been talkative, even the rookie Abby. She’d rather meekly taken credit for her two kills and received cheers from the rest of the squad, even Liam had smiled at her. High praise. This was going to be a huge confidence booster for her, and she was going to need all she could get.

_“This is Fallen Sky to Strike Team, we’re coming in to X-, the Citadel now. Prepare for landing.”_

They all looked at each other in confusion. “What did he say?” Shawn asked, just to make sure he hadn’t misheard.

“Well, either XCOM has another base or they decided to call it ‘the Citadel’ now,” Myra shrugged. “I’m betting on the latter.”

“That seems abrupt,” Abby commented. “Does it happen often?”

“No,” Liam spoke up. “Only the Commander and Central Officer have the authority for name changes. Since we know who the CO is, I assume this to be the work of our new Commander.”

“No one has met the Commander yet, right?” Ernest Sims asked.

All of them shook their heads. “I certainly haven’t,” Shawn said lightly. “But then again, commanders generally keep their distance from grunts like us.”

“I doubt it,” Myra disagreed. “It’s more likely that he’s just as new as we are.”

Kim shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out.” With a shudder the skyranger landed and each of them unstrapped, donned their helmets, and stepped off the skyranger in a crude formation. Central Officer Bradford was waiting for them outside. They formed a line and snapped into their countries equivalent of a salute.

Shawn didn’t let anything show, but found it funny how odd each of them looked as most of them was in a completely different salute. XCOM diversity hard at work. Bradford clearly felt the same way and Shawn saw his lip twitch as he told them “At ease.”

They all relaxed and Bradford continued. “Congratulations on a successful mission. Each of you performed well and the Commander is pleased with your performance. Each of you will be debriefed and then be free to roam the base. Squad Overseer Jaster and privates Rodriguez and Gertrude are to report to the Commander after debriefing. He encourages you not to hurry, but he want to see you by the end of the day. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” they all answered. He nodded.

“Excellent. Dismissed.” Then Bradford walked away.

Shawn smiled at Abby. “From rookie to seeing the Commander. You’re moving up in the world.”

She removed her helmet shook her blonde hair free. “I…suppose so. I didn’t really expect to ever really see him. At all.”

“When your commander wants to see you,” Liam informed. “It usually means you’ve either screwed up badly or performed exceptionally. Given how the mission went, I think you have nothing to worry about.”

“I hope so.” She still sounded nervous, which was understandable. He flashed an encouraging smile at her and all of them exited the hangar.

* * *

 

_Five hours later_

Liam Jaster stood outside the Commander’s office. He admitted it. He was curious who the Council had decided to put in charge of Earth’s defense. After being asked to join XCOM, just for an exercise, he’d made a list of possible candidates for the position in his head. Well, time to see if he was-

The door hissed open and he blinked. Then shrugged and walked in.

“Come in.” a voice ordered and he got his first look at the Commander.

 _Young_. That was the first word that came to mind. He seemed far too young to be any kind of military leader. His black hair didn’t have any strands of gray and his face was simultaneously commanding and friendly. He wasn’t overly dressed either, just wearing a black sweater with the XCOM logo emblazoned. He was sitting at a desk with a monitor to his right.

Liam walked over and sat down in the chair opposite the Commander. He rose and extended his hand. Liam took it. “Pleasure to meet you, Squad Overseer Jaster.”

“Likewise, Commander.” He replied as he inclined his head.

“Now,” the Commander continued. “First I will say excellent job with the mission. It went smoothly for a first encounter. However, I do have some things to point out.”

Liam suddenly felt nervous, no, _apprehensive_ , though he let nothing show. “Were there issues, sir?”

“Some. But easily fixable. But first,” he rested his arms on the desk. “What do you think could be improved?”

He considered for a moment, replaying the entire mission in his mind. “We should have secured the conjoining room before investigating the pod. I also shouldn’t have left Private Gertrude alone.”

“I wouldn’t have considered leaving her an issue, had this _not_ been her first assignment,” the Commander amended. “You were extremely lucky that she didn’t panic. Despite how she performed today, she _is_ a civilian and should be considered as such until she has more experience.”

“Understood, sir.”

“I’ve looked at the roster,” the Commander turned a monitor screen to him. On it was a list of name, and a small list at that. “We only have twenty soldiers on staff at the moment. More are coming but we cannot afford to lose even one. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Rodriguez, you need to _know_ your squad. You need to know the men and woman under your command, their strength and weaknesses. Who can operate independently and who needs supervision.”

Liam wanted to ask something, but held his tongue as it seemed…insubordinate. Unfortunately, he didn’t fully close his mouth and the Commander noticed. “You have something to add?” he asked.

Liam had never been a good liar, and something told him that lying would not work in his favor. “Nothing important, sir.”

“Perhaps. But I believe I’ll judge for myself.

Liam took a breath. “I was just curious…if what you were saying about knowing the people under your command applied to you as well.”

The Commander smiled. “Good question. And yes, it does. I despise hands-off “leaders” and prefer leading from the front. That’ll clearly be more difficult for me since I’ve never directed an operation this large, but I’ll do my best. I keep an open-door policy, if you have a question or issue come to me and I’ll resolve it. Spread that around, it’ll be more believable coming from you.”

As far as first impressions went, the Commander was passing with flying colors. Now whether he could actually run a successful military unit was still in question, but Liam didn’t have much of a reason to doubt him. He seemed intelligent, charismatic and cared about his troops. Everything that a good commander needed.

“I’ll do that.” he promised the Commander.

“Excellent,” the Commander turned the screen back to him. “One last thing; you have an impressive record in Russian counter-terrorism. Did you participate in the War on Terror?”

Liam pursed his lips. “If you’re asking if I ever encountered _that_ commander, then no, I never did.”

“I’m curious. What is your opinion on him?”

He hesitated. This was clearly leading somewhere and Liam had a pretty good idea where. He should probably choose his words carefully. “His methods were…extreme…but despite that, they _were_ effective. Honestly, I was impressed with him until he killed our President.”

The Commander nodded. “Our stories are similar then. You should know I did work for the Commander at one point, and was actually highly placed in fact. But I became disillusioned when he began killing foreign dignitaries without due process. I left soon afterwards.”

Liam blinked. He was actually impressed. Most people, not to mention commanders, would hide that sort of information, especially if that specific information involved working with the most infamous war criminal since…well, _ever_. His respect for the man just went up from that revelation. 

He nodded. “I see. Thank you for telling me.”

The Commander inclined his head. “You’re welcome. If this was going to be an issue, I wanted it resolved right away. You seem to be fine with it, though.”

“We’ve all made mistakes, especially when it comes to our homelands.”

“Very true-“

 _“Commander, this is Central_ ,”

The Commander pressed the intercom key on his desk. “Go ahead, Central.”

_“A town in Canada has just gone dark. Sending you the details.”_

“Prepare the skyranger,” the Commander ordered. “Give our third pilot some experience. I’ll assemble the squad and handle the operation from here.”

_“Acknowledged. Central, out.”_

“I’m ready to go, sir.” Liam informed him.

The Commander shook his head. “Admirable, but you need rest. Besides, some of the other soldiers need the experience. Trust me, you’ll be given plenty of time in the field.”

“Very well sir,” Liam stood up and saluted. “I’ll let you get back to work now.”

The Commander nodded and formed his right hand into a fist and placed it over his chest. His version of a salute? With that Liam left the room, leaving the Commander to prepare for the mission ahead.

 

           


	5. First Contact: Drone

 

_The Citadel: Barracks_

“Look, I’m telling you, that’s actually what they look like.”

“So what does that mean then? That those stories about Area 51 and the government experimenting on aliens are true?”

“Hey, I’m not making this up. Ask Shawn.”

Paige Broker looked over at the smiling, reclining blonde Frenchman.

“Sorry,” he began hesitantly. “Ah-what’s your name? Whatever. She’s telling the truth, go down to R&D if you want the proof. Provided those scientists haven’t sliced the corpses beyond recognition.”

Paige smiled along with the few soldiers in the barracks. The Mexican woman, Myra, had come in a while ago bragging about how they beat back the aliens with no casualties. That had got the attention of everyone and they’d gathered around asking questions about the mission and aliens.

There were barely over a dozen of them all together and she prayed that more soldiers would be joining soon. Even if they were supposedly the best of the best, she found it hard to believe that only twenty soldiers could push back an alien invasion. Myra’s story had been met with some skepticism, namely the outspoken English woman Patricia Trask.

About time she found someone who could match her stubbornness. Patricia was the kind of person who would _never_ accept defeat. Paige pitied the poor soul who happened to get into an argument with her as nearly everyone gave up and stormed off or admitted defeat. Now, normally that wouldn’t be an issue, but what tended to irritate people was that even when shown proof she was wrong, she _still_ pressed on as though she could make it true by sheer force of will.

That particular attitude alienated a good number of people. But when Paige had talked with her over a wide range of topics, she’d realized that Patricia was a very interesting person to talk to. If only she realized how much her attitude put people off, she might have friends other than her.

Patricia scowled. “Don’t you think it’s a _little_ odd how these aliens look exactly like the stereotypical gray alien?”

Myra crossed her arms. “That really doesn’t matter. That’s what they look like. End of story.”

“Just let it go,” Shawn chimed in. “You’re not going to win this.”

Paige winced. That was only going to accomplish the opposite of what he wanted. Best to defuse this now. “Patricia,” she called out. “You’re not going to change anyone’s minds right now. We’ll be able to see if she’s telling the truth soon.”

Patricia pinched her forehead and slumped against the wall. Pushing her chestnut hair out of her face she stormed over to Paige and collapsed on the bunk beside her. Everyone else returned to their conversations. Patricia laid back on the bed and closed her eyes.

“They completely missed the point. Idiots.”

Paige sighed. “And what _was_ the point, exactly. You actually think they were making that up?”

“Come on. You know me better than that. What do _you_ think my point was?”

Paige took a breath. This was another off-putting trait of Patricia’s. She’d intentionally ask rhetorical or ridiculous questions with the point of drawing attention to some obscure issue that _sort_ of related to the question. Most of them were actually perfectly valid and interesting questions, but nine times out of ten, the individual being interrogated got annoyed and a shouting match ensued or they just left. It didn’t help that Patricia never gave any indication of her point.

“You were trying to bring up the issue of governments covering up alien incursions before?” Paige guessed.

“Close enough. Seriously, does everyone I meet have to be so _literal_?”

Paige closed her eyes. “You know, it usually helps if you ask someone what you want to know instead of a roundabout, complicated, semi-related question.”

“I was practically spelling it out for them at the end. If they can’t figure that out, then they’re not worth my time.”

 _This is why no one likes you_. Paige thought, frustrated. “You need to stop treating everyone like me,” she said sternly. “I can get your hidden points because I _know_ you. Everyone else doesn’t, so don’t treat them like they do and then get frustrated when they completely miss your point.”

Patricia sighed. “Don’t lower my faith in humanity any more than it already is.”

Well, she’d tried. Again. Time to give her some space. Maybe now she could _actually_ get some information about the aliens. She got up from the bunk and was making her way over to the group of soldiers when a loud wail echoed through the station.

She froze and Patricia bolted up while everyone else tensed.

_“This is the Commander. Recruits Vicky Ramsey, Pete Chandler, Paige Broker, Ivan Oren and Patricia Trask gear up and report to the hangar.”_

Everyone whose name had been called went to their lockers and began putting on their gear. Unlike some of the recruits, this wasn’t her first mission. But this time they were fighting _aliens,_ it was alright to be a _little_ nervous. But she was fighting alongside the best soldiers in the world, that should put her mind at ease, right?

Hopefully. But they shouldn’t have anything to worry about. Whatever faults Patricia had as a person, she made up for it as an excellent field commander. She put on her helmet and blinked as the HUD initialized. Looking over at Patricia, she’d also put her helmet on and nodded at her. Once the rest of her group had geared up they marched out of the barracks towards the hangar.

* * *

 

_The Citadel: Hangar_

Someone had beaten them there already. The soldier standing at attention stood out from their unified team. His matte black armor was a stark contrast to their tan-colored gear. His helmet was also different; more rounded than theirs, closer to an astronaut’s helmet than their angular ones. He was armed with a sniper rifle and pistol instead of a normal rifle.

He said nothing as they approached, only turning his head in their direction, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge their existence. The skyranger parked in front of them appeared empty.

“Should we board?” One of the recruits, Ivan, asked.

“Not yet,” Patricia answered. “Assume line formation until further orders.” They complied and they formed a line with the silent sniper in the middle. A few minutes later the door to the hangar hissed open and a black-haired woman in a jumpsuit with an aviation helmet tucked under her arm strode in.

“Viking team,” she greeted. “Glad to meet you.” She walked in front of Patricia. “Squad Overseer Trask, I’m Riley, call sign “ _Burning Sky.”_ I’m to take you to the abduction zone. Is your team ready?”

“They are.” Patricia answered.”

Riley put on her helmet and pressed a button on her leg and the ramp to the skyranger went down. “Then come on,” she told them, already walking to the skyranger. “We have a job to do.”

* * *

 

Paige kept looking at the unknown man. There was something off about him. For one, her HUD didn’t display his name or designation when she looked at him. All the gear was synchronized, so that shouldn’t be an issue. But it was for some reason. She’d have to check her helmet after the mission, and his if she was able.

Whoever he was, she couldn’t tell from his armor. XCOM gear was personalized to a degree, each soldier had their country’s flag emblazoned on the armors collar. She needed to thank whoever had that idea. It was rather uplifting and gratifying to see so many people of different nationalities come together for a common cause. It was sad it had taken an alien invasion to actually unite them.

So it was odd then, that instead of a flag, he had a symbol or insignia of some kind emblazoned instead. From what she could tell, it was a cross almost exactly like the ones used by Christian churches. But this one was bloodstained and had blood dripping down the edges, which likely meant it was displaying the actual _act_ of crucifixion rather than the Christian symbol. Why would anyone wear something like that?

She was half tempted to ask him, but held her tongue. This wasn’t the place, not to mention that he didn’t seem particularly talkative at the moment. Seriously. He hadn’t uttered a single word of acknowledgement to _anyone_ , at the most, only nodding at Patricia.

Well, he was going to have to say something soon. Patricia ran a tight squad and before each mission asked for each members name and specialties. Paige didn’t imagine her ritual would change now that she was part of XCOM. Sure enough, Patricia clapped her hands and the sound caused everyone to focus on her.

“Viking team!” She shouted over the sounds of the flying skyranger, “For those that don’t know I’m Patricia Trask, or just Patricia. I’ll be commanding this op, so in order to ensure maximum efficacy and minimum casualties I need to know your capabilities,” She pointed at Paige. “You know how this works, so go first.”

Paige nodded. “Paige Broker, Thirty-Second Signal Regiment, specializing in advanced weaponry and explosives. Also competent in basic computer science.”

Patricia nodded and pointed at the man sitting next to her. “Your turn.”

“Ivan Oren, Russian Honor Guard. Specializing in prolonged combat and marksmanship.”

“Excellent,” Patricia thanked. “Keep going around.”

The woman next to Paige continued. “Vicky Ramsey, United States Air Force. Specializing in advanced reconnaissance and communication with competence in marksmanship.”

The man across from her took his turn. “Pete Chandler, Venezuelan Marine Corps. Specializing in marksmanship and basic combat medicine.”

It was the mysterious sniper’s turn. They all waited expectantly for a few seconds but he didn’t speak. Patricia nudged him. “Your turn, buddy.”

He turned his head slowly until he was staring directly at her. Patricia met his gaze and the two helmeted soldiers held a staring contest for a few seconds. “State. Your. Name.” Patricia growled.

A shake of the head.

“Do you have a problem with speaking, soldier?”

Another shake.

“Do you have an issue following orders?”

Another shake.

“Then follow mine.”

Without breaking eye contact, the man reached into his belt and pulled out a small paper pad and pen. He scrawled something on it and handed it to Patricia. Then he indicated his sniper rifle.

Whatever he had written, Patricia didn’t seem to like it. “This tells me nothing.”

The man didn’t seem to care and turned away and sat back.

Paige held her breath. She’d never seen such insubordination _anywhere_ , much less on Patricia’s squad. To her knowledge, Patricia had never had to deal with it and knowing her, this could go badly very fast.

Luckily, Patricia realized that snapping at him wasn’t the best course of action now. “I’ll be speaking to the Commander about this.” she hissed at him.

If her words threatened him, he didn’t show it. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes.

 _“This is the Commander to Viking Team,”_ a new voice sounded through their helmets. Everyone’s stature became erect in their seats at the voice, including the insubordinate sniper. _“You’re going to be setting down in a remote Canadian town roughly twenty miles outside Quebec. You have two objectives: To eliminate any alien presence in the town and to recover the town’s security footage._

_Security footage will likely be located at the police station or transportation department. Civilian rescue and recovery is not a concern. If any are spotted, neutralize them and prepare them for debriefing and questioning by XCOM. Burning Sky will drop you near the police station. Your HUD will be updating with a basic map of the town within a few seconds. Central reports that his team is detecting odd electrical signatures within the vicinity, be advised that these are not the same ones detected during First Contact. Use discretion and good luck, I’ll be overseeing your movements. Wipe out any resistance. Citadel Command, out.”_

With that, the voice cut out. Paige took a breath. She hadn’t expected the _actual_ Commander of XCOM to take a direct interest in the mission. Either he was very hands-on or he was worried about they would find. It was hopefully the former.

 _“This is Burning Sky to Viking Team,”_ she informed them. _“We’re about five minutes out from the LZ. Squad Overseer, prepare for insertion.”_

“Acknowledged, Burning Sky,” Patricia responded. “Synchronizing timer.” At her word a small timer in the corner of her HUD appeared counting down from five minutes. Paige also noticed the small mini-map at the upper left-hand corner displaying a map of the town. She smiled. This technology never failed to amaze her.

As the clock ticked down she physically felt her heartbeat pulse through her body and her breaths came in short bursts. It was an instinctive response that had been with her as long as she could remember. At first she’d tried everything she could to get rid of it. Rationally, she knew that the chances of anything going horribly wrong were low, but still couldn’t shake that inborn fear.

On their first mission together, Patricia had noticed it and had come over and talked her through it. She’d asked what the problem was and through shaking breaths Paige had explained it as best she could. She never forgot what Patricia had told her.

_“So you’re afraid, is that the issue? That you’re afraid even when you shouldn’t be? Let me tell you something; you know the people who usually die first? They aren’t like you or me, they’re the fearless ones, the ones who believe themselves above death._

_Idiots, all of them. Fear is a good thing. It keeps you alive. It prevents you from doing stupid things. Fear only becomes a problem if you let it control you. Recognize it and accept it, but never give it any leverage over you. Got it? Then come on.”_

So she had, and the mission went off without a hitch. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Her pulsing heartbeat slowly began dropping until it reached a steady, methodical rhythm. In control now, she looked at the timer.

One minute.

“Viking Team!” Patricia shouted as the turbulence increased. “Prepare to deploy!” She stood and grabbed onto one of the handles. The rest of Viking team followed suit. Paige grabbed onto the smooth handle and fingered the pistol on her hip.

 _“Deployment in thirty seconds.”_ The voice of Burning Sky warned through their helmets.

“Brace for landing!” Patricia ordered as she let go of the handle and took a firm stance and reached for her assault rifle. With a clatter of metal and hissing air, the rest of Viking Team armed themselves. Three…Two…

One.

The skyranger shuttered and the ramp descended with a hiss and Paige was immediately hit with a gust of cold wind and sleet.

“Deploy!” Patricia shouted and Viking Team stormed out of the skyranger into a thunderous storm.

* * *

 

“This sucks.” Pete Chandler muttered. Anything spoken into the helmets was broadcast to the team with the exception of the squad leader, who could individually address people. Regardless, that little improvement negated any effect that wind, storms or loud noises had on communication.

But Paige had to agree. As the sleet pounded into her, she couldn’t help but wish that Citadel Command had given them a _little_ warning about the weather. As it was, she couldn’t wait until they entered well, _any,_ building.

Patricia turned her head in his direction. “Your complaint is noted,” she replied, deadpan. “File it with the proper authorities. Now,” she turned away. “Commander, this is Squad Overseer Trask. Viking team has deployed, awaiting authorization to continue.”

_“Authorization granted. Proceed.”_

“Acknowledged,” Patricia nodded. “We’ll begin our sweep of the area.”

 _“Citadel Command, this is Burning Sky,”_ Riley’s voice came through. _“Viking Team has been deployed. Initiating Hawkeye Protocol. Squad Overseer, radio if extraction is needed.”_

“Will do,” Patricia acknowledged. She turned to the squad. “The police station is dead ahead.” She pointed and Paige could make out a building obscured by the sleet falling in waves. “Also, nice landing, Burning Sky.”

_“Thanks.”_

“Paige, you have computational experience, we’ll need that if we find any security footage. Ivan and Vicky, you’ll also come in case we encounter any aliens.”

“Yes, sir!” both of them responded enthusiastically. Probably because they’d get out of the cold and sleet.

She pointed at Pete. “You cover the door and enter overwatch protocol. You,” she pointed at the sniper. “Will cover the station. Position yourself on the roof opposite the station entrance and watch for activity. Got it?”

No response of course, but he formed his right hand into a fist and placed it over his chest, then inclined his head. Paige frowned inside her helmet. What was that? Acknowledgement? A salute? Whatever. After that he wasted no time and took off running toward the roof.

The rest of Viking Team stormed towards the station. Paige had to admit, they made a rather intimidating group. If she was an alien, she’d be running from the armor-clad soldiers methodically heading her way. Sadly, she doubted they felt the same way, if they even _had_ similar emotions.

They reached the entrance and Ivan and Patricia took up positions outside the door while the rest of them waited along the wall. Patricia slowly reached over and opened the door.

“Clear.”

With that all of them, save Ivan, entered the station.

“We have the station’s schematics,” Patricia informed them. “The room holding security footage should be this way.” The slowly made their way down the hallway, pausing at every door to open and confirm it was empty. It was becoming unsettling at how _empty_ the building was. There weren’t even corpses, everyone had just…vanished.

 _Abducted_. Paige amended. They were abducted. How strange to actually use that word in a non-joking context. All those stories about people claiming to abducted by aliens and now it was actually happening. But it wasn’t just the odd farmer being sucked up by a flying saucer in the middle of the night and returned. No, entire _towns_ were being taken and she was fairly certain that those being abducted weren’t coming back.

The darkness permeating the station didn’t help the mood either, and the glow of computer screens only made the entire situation more eerie. They entered the station’s breezeway and Paige tried flipping on a light switch and the room was suddenly bathed in a warm glow.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Ivan muttered and that eased the tension as some of them, Patricia included, started chuckling.

 _“Patricia, I’ve got movement outside.”_ Pete’s voice came through.

“Alien activity?” she demanded.

_“Unknown. If it is, they may come through the windows.”_

“Got it. Keep an eye out.”

_“Will do.”_

With renewed haste, they quickly made their way to the security room. Guns raised, they stormed the small room.

“Clear.” Patricia said, as Paige went over to the computers and sat down. “You two,” she pointed at Ivan and Vicky. “Guard the door.” They both took positions at the door’s edge. Patricia looked down at Paige. “How long?”

Paige bit her lip as she typed. “Password protected, as usual. I can crack it but it’ll take at least five minutes.”

“Make it three.”

Paige sighed and did her best to comply. Within four minutes, the screen flashed as she broke through. She started typing to access security footage. “I’m in.”

Patricia leaned over her. “Can you copy everything?”

Paige pulled out a small USB drive attached to her armor. “Yes, I can save it to my suit’s memory.”

“I didn’t know it could do that.”

“It can’t. I added it.”

She nodded. “Do it. But let’s make sure this is actually what we’re looking for.” She pointed at a file dated from a day ago. “Do that one.”

Paige opened the file and a recording of the police station appeared. She pressed the fast-forward button and watched as it sped through. Everything appeared normal, officers doing their daily tasks.

“Woah! Stop it!”

Paige paused and leaned forward. Three figures had entered the room. The three suited figures looked about the same height and when one of them looked up she saw spectacles underneath their hats.

“Hello. What have we here?” Paige muttered as she leaned forward. When one officer went to confront them, the leading figure whipped out some advanced-looking weapon and shot him in the chest.

“Damn,” Patricia muttered as the figures wiped out everyone in the room. “Commander, are you getting this.”

_“Affirmative. I don’t think these are humans. We’ve probably discovered the alien’s infiltration units.”_

“He’s right,” Paige pointed at the screen. “Look at their necks. Those spots aren’t normal and they _all_ have them.”

She nodded. “Save everything you can.”

Paige plugged in her USB drive. “On it-“

A crash and the sound of glass being shattered echoed throughout the station. Everyone tensed up as an unnatural chittering reached their ears. A loud _bang_ echoed in their helmets.

_“Patricia, I don’t see anything, but our sniper’s just fired at something. We’re probably about to have company!”_

“Something’s inside the station,” Patricia hissed. “Hunker down until we rejoin you!”

_“On it.”_

“Files downloaded,” Paige informed as she disconnected from the computer. “Let’s go.”

Patricia marched forward. “Follow my lead,” she ordered. “Paige, pop smoke into the breezeway. Then we charge and find cover. Initialize vocoder lockdown!”

To prevent anyone from eavesdropping on commands issued on the battlefield, all XCOM helmets had the ability to shut off their vocoders, limiting communication to helmet-to-helmet contact.

Paige dashed forward into the hallway. “Smoke’s away!” she yelled without fear of being heard by the aliens. She tossed the smoke grenade into the nearby room. With that, Patricia, flanked by Ivan and Vicky, stormed the hallways and Paige took up her position behind Patricia.

Green bolts flashed though the smoke as they dashed into the room. Paige blinked and her cover indicator showed a secure location behind a column. Patricia took a location on the opposite column with a window leading outside.

She raised her rifle and peeked around. There were five of the little gray aliens, all crouched behind desks and computers, rising from their positions to take shots at different intervals. She heard her squad mates take shots as automatic fire joined the whooshing sounds of the alien weaponry.

“Ivan! Grenade!” Patricia yelled and Paige leaned back waited for the explosion. A few seconds later the floor shook and she turned around again.

And found herself face to face with one of the aliens.

It cocked it’s head at her, orange orbs never blinking, as if it wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. She let out a short scream and opened fire with her rifle. The bullets tore through the alien’s unprotected body and with a squeal it fell back.

“Got one!” she yelled, heart pounding.

“Ivan got one and the rest are falling back.” Patricia informed her. “Fire at will. Hang on-Ivan! Get down!”

Paige took a risk and positioned herself around the corner and saw one of the alien’s heads flash with a purple light and thrust it’s head in the direction of Ivan. The purple streak connected with him and for a few seconds everything was fine.

She raised her rifle and her helmet indicated she had a sixty-seven percentage shot. Good enough. She took it and her shots connected with the massive gray head. That’s when things started going wrong.

“What! No!” Ivan started screaming. “This isn’t right! _This isn’t right!”_

Paige’s head whipped around to see the horrifying sight of Ivan’s rifle pointed directly at Vicky.

“Ivan what the hell!” Vicky screamed as she backed away.

“Stand down!” Patricia yelled.

Ivan opened fire on Vicky and even XCOM-issue armor was useless at such close range. The force of the bullets tearing through her blasted her back and she was dead before she hit the floor. Patricia leapt at Ivan and tackled him to the floor.

“Soldier down!” Paige shouted.

The aliens took advantage of the chaos and began positioning around them. There were still three left. One was moving to flank Patricia who was trying to subdue Ivan. The other two were moving toward her. She had one grenade.

Saying a short prayer, she tossed it at the nearest alien who chittered and tried to scramble away, but to no avail. The grenade shredded it, completely ripping off one of it’s arms and legs.

“You like that?!” she shouted at the remaining alien as she opened fire.

 Then she remembered the other alien flanking Patricia.

“Patricia! Behind you!” But even as she warned her, she saw that it was too late. There was no way that she could react in time. She was going to watch her best friend die right in front of her. The alien chittered in triumph as it raised it’s wrist pistol.

The window behind it shattered and it fell forward, dead. Paige whipped her head around in bewilderment. Who-no, _how_ had he been able to get that shot.

“Suppress the last one!” Patricia ordered, pure venom in her voice. “It’s _mine_.”

“With pleasure,” Paige responded as she unleashed a swarm of bullets in the direction of the last alien.

It took a couple potshots, none of which came close, while Patricia stormed it’s position. Once Patricia was a few feet away, she raised her hand up and clenched her fist, a clear signal to stop. She held fire and began moving forward just in time to see Patricia clock the alien in it’s massive gray head.

The alien tried to get a shot off but Patricia grabbed the wrist weapon and pulled. She ended up yanking the little alien forward as the wrist weapon was apparently embedded in it’s flesh. Paige kept her weapon trained on the alien, though doubted she’d need it.

Patricia stunned it further by slamming it into the wall and placing her boot on it’s chest, pulled the weapon again and with a tearing sound and the alien unleashing an otherworldly shriek, pulled the weapon, along with it’s hand, clean off it’s body. Yellow blood splattered everywhere and Patricia tossed her hard-earned weapon aside, pulled out her pistol and placed it on the alien’s head, and fired.

The alien’s brains splattered on the wall and Patricia let the body slump to the floor. Paige approached her cautiously and hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, you alright.”

She took off her helmet. “No,” she hissed, not looking at her. “I’m not.”

Paige backed away, she needed some space. Until Pete’s voice broke through.

_“Uh, Patricia, I know you’ve got problems but we’re slowly getting overwhelmed out here. Requesting assistance.”_

Paige looked at the helmetless Patricia. “Hey! Pete’s in trouble. Snap out of it!”

She shook her head and snapped her helmet back on. “We’re on our way, Pete. Give me an overview.”

_“Thanks. The aliens have some sort of flying unit. It’s not that powerful or accurate, but it’s hard to hit and can take a lot of damage. There’s two small gray creatures advancing on the ground. I also take back anything bad I said or thought about our silent sniper. He’s saved my life multiple times."_

“Noted and on our way,” Patricia informed as they dashed toward the outside of the station.

“Is Ivan out?” Paige asked as they ran.

“Yes,” she answered between breaths. “He’ll not be getting up for a few hours.”

“Was that wise? We may need him.”

“He had a complete breakdown in the middle of a firefight and shot a squad mate. I’m not letting him near anyone.”

She couldn’t really fault her, but wondered if she was almost being too…premature? She got the feeling that something else, something like that strange purple aura, was the cause of his sudden panic attack. _Worry about that later, Paige_. They dashed out onto the slick concrete and took up positions behind some crates.

Red and green beams were being fired in their directions and at the sound of a loud bang, Paige looked up to see one of the flying machines drop from the sky. She looked over to see the sniper reloading and aiming again.

Pete glanced behind him and saw them. “Aim for the center!” he yelled as one of the machines swooped forward and flanked him. The sleet had mostly stopped so she could clearly see the machine.

It was almost like a floating ball with a small booster jutting from it’s bottom, symmetrical claw-like appendages on the front and a glowing blue light in the center. It emanated a low hum which was the only other constant sound on the battlefield.

The claws moved closer to each other and red energy gathered into a blazing laser which it shot at Pete. The bolt slammed into his armor and he curled up.

“I’m alright,” he informed them, groaning. “But I can’t take that again.”

Patricia and Paige raised their rifles and took fairly accurate shots at the machine. Patricia’s bullets connected and the sparking metal ball fell from the sky. Both of them took the opportunity to advance until they were by Pete.

“How bad is it?” Paige demanded once she was by him. Patricia and the sniper were taking shots down the street.

“I told you, I’m fine,” he gasped. “But my armor will shatter if that happens again.” Paige took a closer look. Cracks ran along his chest all originating from the smoking crater where the beam had hit. She looked up as a drone exploded and fell from the sky. The sniper reloaded again.

“How many is that?” she wondered.

Pete gave a painful chuckle. “Enough.”

“The machines are down!” Patricia informed. “Advance!”

Paige leaped over the crates and took a position behind a car. She peeked up to see the two aliens scurrying away. A sniper shot rang out and one of them went limp. The other took position behind a semi-truck. Patricia motioned her to move around the cars.

“Move around for a flank! I’ll take the other side.”

Her gun trained on the end of the semi, she cautiously advanced around. She finally reached a point where she could see the alien who hadn’t seemed to notice her yet. “I’ve got a shot.”

“Execute.”

She raised her rifle silently. Ninety-eight percent, good enough. She opened fire and the alien was blasted backwards by the bullets.

“Target down.”

There was silence in the street.

“I think that’s all of them.” Pete said slowly as he limped up.

“I agree,” Patricia nodded. “Burning Sky, this is Squad Overseer Trask, requesting extraction. Send in Artifact Recovery too, while you’re at it.”

_“Copy that, Squad Overseer. Sorry about Vicky.”_

“Yeah, so am I.”

Now that the adrenaline had faded, Paige slumped back against a wall. Despite what had happened, it could have been much worse. It wasn’t the first time people she’d worked with had died and it wouldn’t be the last. But every time it happened, no matter how well she knew the person or not, she still felt she had failed. Even if there was nothing she realistically could have done, she knew she’d be replaying the battle in her mind looking for it.

It was much worse for Patricia though. She took every single squad death as sign of personal failure and would be looking for something to take it out on. Paige needed to make sure she focused her anger in the right direction. She looked up to see the sniper climb down from the roof.

Whoever he was, he’d proven his worth today. Whether Patricia realized it or not, he’d saved her life and from the sound of it, Pete’s as well. She gave a small nod in his direction. He noticed and responded to her the same way he’d responded to Patricia; with an inclination of his head and a fist placed over his heart.

She looked up as the skyranger soared over. Good. She wanted out of this place as soon as possible.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Burning Emblem

_Personnel:_

Viking 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Private Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Active

 **Recorded Kills:** 2

Viking 2: Private Paige Broker

            **Status:** Active

 **Recorded Kills:** 4

Viking 3: Private Ivan Oren

            **Status:** Suspended (Awaiting Psychological Evaluation)

 **Recorded Kills:** 1

Viking 4: Private Vicky Ramsey

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Recorded Kills:** 0

Viking 5: Private Pete Chandler

            **Status:** Wounded (Estimated Time: 2 Days)

 **Recorded Kills:** 3

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Riley Ignis – Call sign: “Burning Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-4x Alien Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-1x Alien Corpse (Mutilated)

-2x Alien Corpses (Unsalvageable)

-7x Alien Mechanical Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-23x Alien Weapon Fragments

-25x Alien Alloys

 

 


	6. Research and Engineering I

 

_The Citadel_

The Commander reclined in his chair. That could have gone better. Losing any soldier at this point was a devastating loss. However, it _had_ been offset by the information gathered. Namely the alien infiltrators and further proof of the alien’s telepathic abilities.

Now he had a glimpse of how the aliens were managing to subdue entire towns with little resistance. After watch the footage Viking Team had recovered again, he was fully convinced that those suited men were the main enablers of the abductions. How the aliens had managed to create a human look-alike, he didn’t know. And for infiltrators, they didn’t seem particularly subtle either. Wearing exactly the same thing didn’t exactly help them remain incognito. Still, these _were_ aliens and likely had a much different thought process than humans.

Or more likely, they were only designed that way to have humans drop their guard and then be taken by surprise when odd, suited men attacked them.

He needed some form of Intelligence. Unfortunately, XCOM had been developed as a strictly military organization. Some basic components were there, but it would take a great deal of time to actually develop an espionage arm of XCOM.

And if the past few days were any indication, time was something that he didn’t have.

He needed an intelligence director, besides him, to start working on that ASAP. The Council might provide him with one, but it wasn’t a good idea to petition them for resources yet. No. Relations were strained enough and they’d want results before committing anything more, which was reasonable, if frustrating.

Despite the strange thin men the aliens had, they weren’t his biggest concern at the moment.

At least some of the aliens had some sort of telepathic ability and if the results were any indication, it was potent, effective and dangerous. As far as he knew, there was no way to counter it and that was concerning. All the aliens had to do was snap the minds of several soldiers and his squad was effectively wiped out.

The bright side was that since the aliens were _not_ using them at will, it probably meant that there was some hidden cost to these abilities, be it energy, time or pain. Whatever the reason, that was something he needed to know _now_ to prevent another incident from happening.

He pushed himself up from the chair. No more delaying, time to go down to the engineering bay and research labs to start putting plans into motion. Once that was done, the internal council could be formed and an actual coordinated effort could begin.

He flicked the intercom switch. “Bradford, let Shen know I’m coming down to Engineering.”

_“Yes, Commander.”_

***

_The Citadel, Engineering Bay_

Raymond Shen looked up as the Commander approached. Putting down his tools, he grabbed a tablet and went to meet him.

“Dr. Shen,” the Commander greeted. “Apologies for our last talk being so short. Bradford was rather insistent on continuing and I had a surprise meeting with the Council.”

Shen smiled. “No worries, Commander. You have an enormous task and I will do everything in my power to ensure you succeed.”

The Commander inclined his head. “I’ll do my best to provide whatever you need.”

“Appreciated, Commander. Now, what would you like to know?”

“Weapons testing,” came the immediate response. “I want to know what you can make.”

“Right this way, Commander.” Shen gestured over to a weapons testing range. There were several targets at the far end and bulletproof glass separated the range from the rest of the workshop. At the end was a stand propping up some advanced weapons. The Commander walked over and picked up one of the assault rifles he’d seen the soldiers use.

He gestured at the range. “May I?”

“By all means.”

He put on some nearby earmuffs and steadied the weapon while looking down the sights. The weight was normal. Sights seemed to be accurate. He inhaled and fired the weapon. Bullets spat from the weapon in short bursts. The recoil was far less than he was used to. After several successive bursts, he observed his handiwork.

The dummy he’d chosen had several additional holes in it now. His aim could use some improvement, but that wasn’t why he was here today. Placing the rifle down, he picked up the next weapon, a pistol.

Grasping it with both hands, he aimed at the head of the dummy. _Bang_. He lowered the weapon. Almost a headshot, not quite. No decent improvements with the pistol. It was serviceable, nothing more.

He gave a slight grin as he picked up his personal favorite; the sniper rifle. Now _this_ weapon was far lighter than the others, barely heavier than a plank of wood. He looked down the scope and after adjusting it, took a shot. The recoil was significantly less, which was unexpected, but welcome. He moved the sniper rifle away and grinned. Headshot. Nice.

Two more remained; a shotgun and some sort of heavily modified assault rifle. Shotgun first. Setting the sniper rifle down gently, he picked up the slightly heavier weapon. The nice thing about shotguns was the spread, aiming wasn’t an issue. He loaded it and fired. The recoil was slightly improved, but not by much which was expected with shotguns.

The assault rifle from end to end nearly reached up to his chest. He hoped he could lift it. Grasping the handles, he wielded the weapon at the target until he was satisfied where it was aimed. Bracing himself and gritting his teeth, he fired the massive gun and nearly fell over from the recoil. He still gave a feral grin, the power contained in the weapon felt amazing. Unfortunate that this wasn’t a weapon he specialized in.

He put the assault rifle down and pulled off the earmuffs. Dr. Shen stood by, professionally waiting for the Commander to finish. “Impressions, Commander?”

“Good work,” he responded, pleased. “The caliber is far beyond what I’ve worked with before. Especially with the sniper rifle, good job with that.”

Shen smiled, clearly relieved. “Thank you Commander, but these are only basic templates. We can modify each weapon in different ways.”

“Really?” the Commander questioned, walking over. “Show me.”

Shen pulled up some schematics on his tablet. “Each modification has specific strengths and weaknesses.” He pointed at a clearly enhanced assault rifle. “We’re able to significantly increase the damage of the assault rifle. The tradeoff is that it’s far heavier and difficult to aim with. But it’s the second most powerful weapon we’ve developed.”

“Hmm…” the Commander chewed his lip. “How many of each prototype do you have?”

“At the moment? Two.”

“Can you make six of each kind?”

Shen nodded. “Of course. It’ll be done within the day.”

The Commander nodded. “Excellent. I want to ensure that each soldier has the most options available. Speaking of which, I’ve only noticed that usually only the assault rifles have been used in the field. Is there a weapons restriction I’m not aware of?”

Shen hesitated. “Not entirely, Commander. Bradford felt it was best to restrict what he deemed ‘specialized equipment’ from common field use until you arrived.”

“Reasonable. I’m assuming he meant weapons like the sniper rifle and shotgun.”

“And the SAW. Unless they receive training, most soldiers can’t wield them effectively.”

The Commander nodded. “I’ll take a look at the roster. Between all of our soldiers I’m sure we have some specialists among them.”

“Just say the word,” Shen promised. “And we’ll deliver.”

The Commander pointed at another schematic. “You’ve developed an SMG. I assume that’s what it is anyway.”

“Correct. Not powerful and intended to be used by scouts or spotters.”

“Forward me the entire weapons list,” The Commander ordered. “Now, I want to move on to armor.”

Shen suddenly looked nervous. “Ah, I understand if you have doubts after Private Ramsey’s manner of…death.”

The Commander’s eyebrows pinched, and then his face brightened once he understood. “That? No, that isn’t your fault. I don’t care what kind of armor it is, nothing can protect from assault rifle bursts at close range. Besides, it held up when Private Chandler was shot by that drone.”

Shen gestured at an engineer and turned back to the Commander. “I’m…relieved to hear that, Commander. Though I do confess to having some degree of guilt.”

The corners of the Commander’s lips turned up. “Good. Guilt is a powerful motivator, I trust you to use it effectively. Now,” he looked over at the engineer who was pushing a table over to them. “What else have you created?”

“When we first started developing weapons and armor,” Shen began. “We constantly found ourselves in a loop. We designed the weapons to pierce armor and then did the same with our armor to protect from the weapons. This back and forth went through several iterations before we hit the pinnacle of armor tech and were left in the awkward position of having weapons more powerful than our armor.”

Shen picked up what looked like a white bulletproof vest with fabric designed in a hex pattern. “In an attempt to overcome it, we developed what we’ve dubbed ‘ceramic plating’ which essentially adds an extra layer of protection in case the actual armor fails.”

The Commander picked up the vest. It was lighter than a regular vest and, when putting it on, felt surprisingly comfortable. “Is it strictly supposed to be a last layer of protection, or does it hold up under regular fire?”

Shen hesitated. “It’s able to withstand SMG and pistol fire. But will become useless after prolonged fire.”

The Commander cocked his head. “How sure of that are you?”

“Reasonably sure.”

The Commander walked back over to the weapons stand and picked up the pistol. “Would you bet your life on it?”

Shen visible became nervous. “I have no reason not to…” he trailed off the Commander approached him with the pistol. He stopped in front of Shen and flipped the pistol so he was holding the barrel and extended the handle to Shen.

“Would you bet _my_ life on it?” He asked softly.

A drop of sweat rolled down Shen’s face. “I…would.”

The Commander lips curled into a smile and he pressed the pistol into Shen’s hand. “Prove it.” then clasping his hands behind his back, walked into the range.

Shen stared at the pistol. Clearly uncomfortable with what was happening, he opened and closed his mouth several times before speaking.

“Commander…I’m not convinced…”

“Then scrap this and start over until you actually produce something useful. If it’s not good enough for me, it’s not good enough for my soldiers who actually _rely_ on your gear to protect them!”

That silenced whatever Shen was going to say. He hesitantly raised the pistol and taking deep breaths, steadied the weapon.

_Bang!_

The bullet hit the Commander in the chest and the impact forced him to take a step back. He looked down at the visible dent in the vest. He looked over at the shaken man. “Again!” He ordered.

_Bang!_

“Again!”

_Bang!_

The Commander held up his hand and Shen lowered the weapon. He took off the vest as he approached the shaking engineer. Laying the vest on the table he addressed Shen.

“Consider this the final test before production. Everything you test will go through _me_ before it reaches my soldiers. Do the job well and you have nothing to worry about. Do not and you may have to find a new commander. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y…Yes, Commander.”

“Good,” he turned to face him. “Moving on, are there any developments in armor that I should be aware of?”

Shen wiped his head. “Unfortunately not at this time, Commander. We’re starting to build up a stockpile of the alien alloys recovered in the field. But until the research team fully analyzes what they are and how to use them, any advances in armor are stalled.”

The Commander nodded. “Understood. Now, I want to see the support grenades. I’ve seen enough to know how the explosives work.”

Shen nodded and motioned for another cart to be brought over. Once it was brought over, the Commander picked up the gray canister labeled ‘XCOM Smoke’. He pulled the pin and tossed it into the firing range and pink smoke filled the range obscuring the dummies.

“Interesting color.” The Commander noted wryly.

“Believe it or not, it was an accident,” Shen informed him. He handed the Commander a standard issue XCOM helmet. “Put this on.”

He did and frowned when the smoke disappeared once the HUD initialized. He lifted it off and the smoke was still there. He lowered the helmet and it was gone again.

What?

“Blink once, wait a couple seconds and do it again,” Shen advised. “Do the same to shut it off.” The Commander complied and his HUD was now suddenly able to recognize the smoke. He did it again and the smoke was gone. He took off the helmet just to be sure he wasn’t seeing things.

“How did you do that?” he asked, amazed.

“A form of visual filtering,” Shen explained. “One major drawback of smoke grenades is that it obstructs our soldiers vision as well as enemies. We wanted to fix that. We experimented with several different colors of smoke and the one that was easiest to filter out was that exact shade of pink.”

“So it just filters out that color?”

“ _Exactly_ that color and exactly that shade. But helmet’s filter needs to be manually activated so you shouldn’t have to worry about running into pink walls.”

“Well done.” The Commander complemented as he reached for the other canister.

“The flash-bang,” Shen explained as he picked it up. “If you want to test it, I advise to put the helmet back on. Flash suppressors were built in to prevent collateral damage.”

“Let’s do it then,” The Commander said excitedly as he placed the helmet back on. He tossed the flash-bang into the now dissipated smoke and saw a momentary shockwave which vanished within a nanosecond. He took the helmet off. “You outdid yourself here. I want these placed in the armory and into production.”

“Will do, Commander.” Shen nodded.

“Now, before I leave, are there any other things I should know?”

Shen pulled up another schematic on his tablet. “We’ve developed schematics for laser sight integration into all weapon types, minus rocket launchers. It makes the weapons heavier, but could potentially be useful for new or untested soldiers.”

“Do you have any produced?”

“Not yet. It hasn’t left the prototype stage yet.”

“I want four of each kind. In two days’ time. Is that manageable?”

“Yes, Commander. Anything else?”

“One more thing, do you have one of the med-kits?”

Shen went over to a table that held the one of the red and white colored canisters. He grasped it and returned. “Here it is, one of the results of collaborating with the research team.”

The Commander took it. “How does it work?” He asked, appraising it.

“It relies on nanotechnology,” Shen explained. “The mist containing the nanites initially bonds together and seals the wound from infection. The remaining nanites enter your body and bloodstream and…well heal you. It’s difficult to explain without going deep into the specifics.”

“No need,” the Commander walked towards the range. “I get the idea. Now to test it.” He grasped the pistol laying on the table.

Shen’s eyes widened and he immediately started jogging over. “Commander what are you _doing_!”

“What does it look like?” He snapped. “I’m testing it.” Ignoring Shen for the moment, he placed the barrel in his shoulder, maneuvering it so it wouldn’t hit bone.

Still, it was going to hurt.

He gritted his teeth, but otherwise didn’t make a sound as the bullet tore through him. Ignoring the white-hot pain, he grabbed the med-kit, aimed it at the bleeding hole and sprayed.

The mist was freezing and he could actually _feel_ the nanites or nanobots or whatever going into the hole and then out. He wanted to claw at the wound, but knew it wouldn’t help. A few seconds later the feeling vanished and the pain was reduced to a minor throb. He took a deep breath and flexed his arm. He could immediately tell the left shoulder was weak, but otherwise didn’t feel any pain. Not bad. Great, in fact.

Using a cloth he wiped up the small amount of blood on the floor and his chest. Unfortunate that the shirt was likely ruined. Oh, well. Realities of command. He turned back to the gaping Shen and walked his way still grasping the med-kit.

“Nice job,” he complemented as he handed the med-kit back to Shen. “You know what to do. Now, I have an appointment with Dr. Vahlen.”

With that he left the elderly engineer, mouth still agape, standing still and wondering what he’d been sucked into.

***

_The Citadel, Research Labs_

The glass doors slid open soundlessly when The Commander walked into the research labs and could almost feel the change in environments. The air became colder, clearer and _sterile_. That effect was enhanced by the harsh light shining from the florescent lightbulbs.

 He immediately spotted Moira Vahlen, who was looking through a microscope. He thought about interrupting, but decided against it. Whatever she was working on was probably important and besides, he wanted to get a closer look at the Labs.

As she worked, the Commander glanced around the room. It was nearly empty, with only five other scientists performing various tasks. He had no doubt they were all professionals but it wasn’t going to be nearly enough if they actually wanted to win a war. Perhaps the Council could provide more scientists? Unlikely, but it was something to look into later.

He walked over to a wall marked ‘Cold Storage’ and pulled out one of the drawers. With a hiss and blast of steam the thing in the drawer was revealed to be one of the gray aliens. It was a fairly good specimen, barring the small holes that riddled the head and body. Up close it was… _ugly_ wasn’t the right word. That’s what you applied to something horrendous looking, and in the same way a spider wasn’t ugly, neither was the alien.

 _Interesting_. That may not have been the right term, but that’s the word that stood out in the Commander’s mind. It’s body was just as scrawny in person as it was through armor cams. Was it malnourished? Or was that typical of it’s kind?

“How do you function?” He muttered to the corpse.

It didn’t respond.

“Commander!” he turned to see an anxious looking Vahlen approaching him clutching her tablet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. You haven’t been waiting long, I hope?”

The Commander smiled and shook his head. “No. I didn’t want to interrupt. You seemed busy.”

She brushed her hair out of her face. “It could have waited. But I presume that you’ve come down to discuss our research?”

“No, I came down to look at the corpse.” He deadpanned. Vahlen blinked, her mind clearly trying to process what he’d said. Sarcasm was lost on her it seemed, such a shame. He sighed. “It’s a _joke_ doctor, of course I’m here to discuss your research.”

She let out a relieved breath. “Oh, good. For a minute I thought….never mind. Where do you wish to start?”

“You know better than I.”

She took it in stride. “Very well, come over here.”

Interesting. Many people often double-checked him when he left them to make decisions. Not her it seemed. Good, confidence was an excellent sign. She led him to a monitor and after a few taps on her tablet, several images came up.

“At the moment, three areas of research are open to us,” she began while looking at the screen. “Once we explore one, more will certainly show up, but for now this is what we have to work with.” A tap of her finger and some of the alien weapon fragments came on screen.

“As you’ve no doubt seen, every alien weapon encountered has self-destructed upon the alien’s death. Unfortunately, we don’t know if this is specific to this particular species or a just a feature of their technology.”

“Why do you believe it might be specific to this species?” The Commander questioned.

She pulled up the image of one of the alien corpses. On it’s right arm were the remnants of the wrist blaster that had been directly implanted in the arm. “This is why,” Vahlen explained. “The weapon seems to have been directly implanted into it’s arm. I can only theorize the reason, but it could explain why the weapons self-destruct upon death.”

“Could you recover any weapon fragments from the drone?” He questioned.

She looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Is that the official designation?”

The Commander shrugged. “No, I was just commenting on what I noticed. It didn’t seem more advanced than the machines we have now.”

Two images appeared on the screen, both appearing to be weapon fragments. Both looked very similar. “The fragments on the right are from the drone, the others are from the alien.”

“They look very similar.”

“Agreed. Which calls into question my theory that the self-destructing weapons are limited to a species. They appear to be very similarly constructed or at the very least, use similar parts. “

“So what can we gain from this?”

“An understanding of their technology, for starters,” Vahlen pulled up a final image of an alien aiming at something. “Based on what I’ve seen, it seems far superior to our own and Dr. Shen concurs. An analysis into the fragments could shed light onto _how_ advanced they truly are. Once we know what the weapon fragments can do, I believe we could use them to start making weapons of our own.”

The Commander rested his elbow on his arm and cupped his chin. “So if we want advanced weapons, we start with the weapon fragments.”

Vahlen nodded. “Correct, Commander.”

“Proceed.”

Some new pictures appeared on the screen, scraps of alien alloys he’d seen recovered. “Based on _very_ preliminary examinations, it seems that this is probably the strongest metal on the planet,” She brushed hair out of her face again. “Barring diamond, it might be the strongest _substance_ on the planet. Much of this alloy is on those alien pods that the first squad recovered. Unfortunately, without a thorough examination of the alloy, we don’t know the most effective way to remove it and modify it for our own use.”

“And this could be used for improving out armor?”

Vahlen’s face lit up. “Not _just_ armor, Commander. The possibilities for the application of this are nearly infinite. Structures, shields, armor, weapons, vehicles, we’re only limited by our imagination!”

Her enthusiasm was a welcome change. He smiled. “It sounds useful. But I believe you still have one more thing to show me.”

She bit her lip. “Right, of course Commander.” She took a deep breath as she brought up pictures of the aliens on the screen.

“The last branch available to us at the moment is the aliens themselves. We have no idea as to their anatomy, language, brain functions or physical capabilities. Not to mention the odd…occurrences…in the field.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “You mean the telepathic abilities.”

She looked hesitant. “I…would not be so hasty in assuming that is the case quite yet. It’s quite possible that there’s a logical explanation.”

As much as he wished that was true, the evidence showed otherwise. As a scientist, it was to be expected that she would be dismissive of mental abilities like telepathy. Until a few days ago, it had been myths and science fiction. But now it was reality, whether she liked it or not.

He held out his hand, indicating the tablet. “May I?” She cocked her head in confusion but surrendered the tablet. As he went through XCOM’s files, he addressed Vahlen. “Is that a professional opinion, doctor? Or just your own?”

“Logic, Commander. To date, there has never been any evidence of mentally gifted individuals. It’s possible that the alien’s technology is advanced to the point where such devices do _look_ like telepathy and telekinesis, but in reality are simply advanced tech.”

“You make an interesting point,” The Commander conceded. “One that I hope is right. But watch this.” He opened the file and they were viewing video taken from a soldier’s armor cam. “This footage was taken during the last operation. I assume you heard about Ivan’s mental breakdown?”

“I did.”

“Watch closely.”

He played and let the recording go until it reached the point where purple flared around the alien’s head. “Now, what do you think that is?”

She shook her head. “I…have no idea.”

 _Yes you do._ He thought. _You just don’t want to admit it_. He kept playing and the alien thrust it’s head forward and the purple flash that had flared around it’s head compiled into a nearly imperceptible strand of purple light which shot out and made contact with the ill-fated soldier.

The Commander shut it off once Ivan opened fire on Vicky. “I know that correlation doesn’t equal causation, doctor. But tell me honestly, do you really think that was some advanced technology?”

She looked down and crossed her arms. “I…I cannot make any assumptions without definite proof, Commander. But…” she trailed off. “The evidence does seem to support your theory.”

“Do you think you could prove it if you begin researching the aliens?” He asked.

“Probably…” she answered hesitantly, then sighed. “I don’t know. This is an entirely new species and if the possibility of higher mind functions exist, it will be even harder to prove.”

She looked up and shut off the monitor. “But this is your decision to make, Commander. You must decide where we focus our time.”

The Commander leaned against the wall. “Couldn’t you just do all of them at once?”

Vahlen’s shaking head was a definite no. “If I had a large staff and no time limit, that may be possible. But with these limited resources, spreading my team any thinner will only hinder us and XCOM. It would be nearly a month before we turned up anything worthwhile. Time we don’t have.”

“Point taken.”

“Where would you like us to focus?”

The Commander looked at her, then turned his back and walked to a nearby table. “Tell me,” he said without turning. “What would you choose? I’m curious.”

He heard footsteps as she walked up beside him. “Do you want my professional or personal opinion?”

“Both.”

He heard her sigh. “From a practical standpoint, protecting and arming our soldiers is the best move. It’ll reduce casualties and give us an edge in the short term.”

“But not in the long term?”

“The aliens will adapt, Commander. I know little about them, but I know that this is just the beginning. If we start using their metals and weapons against them, they will simply respond in kind and we’ll be back almost where we started.”

“What are you saying, Vahlen?”

“We need to _understand_ them. Knowledge is power and if we know how our enemy works and thinks, we can use that to outsmart and outmatch them. We could discover if this telepathy truly exists and learn to defend against it. We could develop technology specific to these aliens and wipe them out with ease. Imagine a toxin or bioweapon that specifically targets an alien’s genetic structure! If we know our enemy, we can defeat them!”

“But this is hypothetical, doctor. I have no assurance that any of this is possible.”

He could hear hope fading in her voice. “No, but if even one of those could be achieved, would that not be worth the risk?”

He finally turned to her. “You would potentially risk the lives of my soldiers in the hope that learning about them will provide a greater advantage.”

He saw her hesitate. Her answer would tell him a lot. She clutched her tabled. “Yes, Commander. I would.”

He held her gaze for several seconds. “I’m impressed,” he finally said. “Few stand by their convictions when questioned like that. But I believe you’re right. We need to know our enemy. Focus all your efforts on finding everything you can about them.”

Vahlen gave an imperceptible sigh of relief. “Thank you, Commander. I will not let you down.”

He gave a small smile. “You were nervous, weren’t you?”

“Somewhat,” she admitted. “People’s reactions are…hard to predict sometimes.”

The Commander chuckled. “Tell me about it. Though I’d figured you’d seen worse during the war.”

The corners of her lips twitched. “Trust me, I did.”

He inwardly winced. He forgot how civilians tended to handle warzones. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to bring up anything…painful.”

She shook her head. “No worries, Commander. I came to terms with what I saw a long time ago.” She appraised him with her deep blue eyes. “Do you mind if I ask you a question, Commander?”

“Go ahead.”

“You said you knew who I was when we were introduced. You mentioned ‘people in your line of work’ noticed I was missing. Who were you before…” she gestured around the lab. “This? XCOM?”

He was silent for a few moment. With each repetition of the lie he felt consecutively worse. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice and it was the smart thing to do. “I was part of a black ops group,” he began. “Created with the sole purpose of ending the threat of organized and radical terrorism. In short, I was a terrorist hunter. A good one.”

She cocked her head with interest. “You were part of _his_ group?”

“You could say that. Highly placed as well.”

Vahlen simply appraised him. He raised an eyebrow. “No further comment? Anyone I’ve told that to has had _some_ reaction. Indifference would be a first.”

“Not quite indifference,” she responded slowly. “Interest. I’ve never met anyone associated with him before, though I’ve heard the stories.”

He frowned. “You’re _interested?_ ”

“Certainly. That, ah, _other_ commander was a fascinating individual. Certainly polarizing and ruthless. But there was an elegant _calculation_ with everything he did. Every atrocity he committed had a greater purpose, even if it was a terrible one. It’s unfortunate he died, I would have liked to speak to him.”

Well, this was unexpected. He couldn’t tell if Vahlen was being completely serious or not. Seeing how sarcasm was lost on her, she was likely being completely genuine.

What an odd woman.

“I see,” he finally said. “Well, if we ever get a break I could probably answer some questions you have.”

“That would be a fascinating distraction,” Vahlen agreed. “I’m especially interested in his thought process behind some of his tactics.”

He smiled. _Yes, you’ll get a pretty accurate picture._ “Well, when that happens I’ll do my best to describe it.

She walked over to the cold storage area and pulled out the alien corpse again. “I should let you get back to work. We both have tasks we need to accomplish.”

He nodded. “How soon will you have results?”

“Within four days.”

“Excellent, a pleasure talking with you Mrs. Vahlen.” He placed his right fist over his chest and inclined his head. She didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. He smiled and walked out the door.

Two large tasks completed. Excellent. Now he needed to speak with Bradford.


	7. Promotions and Councils

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The Commander stood in front of the massive screen displaying the world and it didn’t look good.

Billions were relying on him to protect them from the alien incursion. Unfortunately, it simply wasn’t feasible with the resources he had. Nineteen soldiers and a handful of scientists and engineers simply wouldn’t cut it. Thus he had to prioritize, and for now, the Council countries took priority.

Bradford had mentioned an advanced satellite that would be able to detect alien aircraft over a certain area. Which meant that each council member would want him to order one placed over their country. That was going to politicize this decision even more than usual, which was something he had been trying to _avoid_.

Well, any decision he made was going to make someone angry. Best to make the smartest one. He heard a hiss as the door slid open and Bradford walked in.

“Commander,” he greeted. “You wanted to see me?”

The Commander turned to face him. “I did,” he motioned at the screen. “Take a look.”

Bradford walked over and stood beside him.

“Rather daunting, isn’t it?” The Commander commented.

“Yes, sir,” Bradford agreed. “But not unmanageable. With the Council’s resources and your leadership I’m certain we’ll do fine.”

How encouraging and unrealistic. “Perhaps,” he said grimly. “Unfortunately, reality rarely works in our favor.” He turned from the screen to the holotable and brought up a 3-D recreation of the reconnaissance satellites.

“How effective are these satellites Shen designed?” The Commander inquired.

“Very,” Bradford instantly responded. “We have enough examples of the alien signatures to be able to modify the satellite to pick up _any_ alien craft that enter its radius.”

“And the radius is?”

“We’ve been able to create a wide enough signal to blanket the United States, excluding Alaska and Hawaii,” Bradford answered. “We _can_ shrink the radius if needed, but Shen believes that this is the largest area these satellites will be able to cover.”

The Commander shut down the holotable. “I’ve looked at our finances. We can only afford two satellites at the moment and it’ll take twenty days before they’re produced. Which means a decision has to be made concerning who gets satellite coverage.”

Bradford turned back to the map. “Every member of the Council is going to want it. They’ll likely provide incentives for you to give them a satellite.”

“Very likely,” The Commander agreed. “Unfortunate that bribes don’t work on me.”

Bradford looked at him and frowned. “I don’t think that’s the impression they want to give, Commander. They’re likely just worried for their countries.”

“Possibly,” the Commander acknowledged. “But the Council members aren’t the average countrymen or soldier. They’re politicians, and political tactics are all they know. Bribes are often effective. If they’re in the guise of patriotism, even more so.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t ask you here to only discuss the Council,” he pointed at the map. “Where do you believe our satellites should be placed?”

He was silent as he appraised the screen. “It’s pretty early to be making these decisions,” he began slowly. “Panic is relatively low across the board, if it rises dangerously high in one of the countries, placing a satellite would likely lower panic and give us time to secure the country.”

The Commander wasn’t surprised. Tactics wasn’t Bradford’s area of expertise. If most people were asked, they would likely use the satellites as a fallback and, had they sufficient resources, it wasn’t even a bad one. Unfortunately, they did not so he’d developed a more practical plan.

“I understand why you’d use that idea,” the Commander said. “However, it’s uncoordinated, inefficient and reactionary, especially given our limited resources. I have several personal rules for expansion and one of them is _don’t_ _go beyond your control_.”

He pointed at China. “Say China’s panic level is dangerously high and you deploy a satellite to reduce the panic. It works, for a while anyway.” He pointed at North America. “However, you’ve concentrated building up coverage of North America instead and now you have an isolated satellite just asking to get shot down again. Spending resources in a reactionary manner will only hinder XCOM instead of helping it."

For his part, Bradford took the criticism well. “Point taken, Commander. I assume you have an alternative?”

“I do,” the Commander nodded. “I believe it’s better to use our resources tactically. That means securing the immediate surroundings and expanding outward.”

Bradford got it. “The United States.”

“Correct. Once the United States is secure, we move out to Canada and Mexico. Once North America is secure, we move on to South America. And so on.”

Bradford clicked his teeth. “Permission to speak freely?”

“You don’t need to ask permission. Go ahead.”

“The Council may not look favorably on securing the United States first. Some may view it as, ah, _favoritism_.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “This has nothing to do with national loyalties. If that was going to be an issue, they shouldn’t have built the Citadel in the United States.”

“I’m not disagreeing,” Bradford amended. “Just warning you of the possible fallout.”

The Commander sighed. “Every decision I make is going to be politicized by the Council. The sooner they realize that I’m not fighting on their terms, the better. I know how politicians work, Bradford. They talk big, but they’ll fall into line at the first sign of danger.”

“If you say so, Commander.” Bradford conceded. “I’ll do anything I can to assist.”

The Commander waved a hand. “Appreciated, but your talents are elsewhere. Speaking of which, I have a task for you.”

“What is it?”

The Commander picked up a tablet and brought up the footage of the alien human impersonators. “Have you seen this yet?”

“The alien infiltration units? Yes, I read the report.”

“The aliens are clearly running covert operations on Earth. XCOM needs an Intelligence arm and I want you to find me a director.”

Bradford looked skeptical. “Do we have the resources to maintain a military _and_ intelligence arm of XCOM?”

“It will have to be built from the ground up,” the Commander told him. “Hence why I want a director. I’d do it myself, but I don’t have the time necessary to devote to it.”

Bradford nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, Commander.”

He inclined his head. “Thank you, Bradford.”

The Commander then spun on his heel and stoically walked to the door. “One final thing; tell Dr. Vahlen and Shen to meet me in my office in one hour. You as well.”

“Understood, Commander. I’ll see you then.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

The Commander leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Things were starting to come together. He spoken to Vahlen, Shen and Bradford and given them their orders. Now there was one final task to accomplish. Well, two, but this had to happen before the other.

A green light on his desk flashed, indicating someone was outside the door. He pushed the button and it slid open with a hiss. Bradford walked in followed by Shen and Vahlen. Shen wore his standard-issue green XCOM jacket and Vahlen was still in a lab coat and holding her tablet.

The door closed behind them silently and the Commander rose from his seat.

“Thank you for coming.” He greeted.

“Certainly, Commander,” Vahlen answered. “What would you like to speak about?”

The Commander paused. Speeches weren’t his specialty, yet he felt this was an occasion where one was warranted. He knew some officers who were good at that sort of thing, but he’d never been able to quite master it. Unfortunate, he’d just have to do his best.

“I’m not good at long-winded speeches,” he began. Honesty worked better for him than improvisation. “But I’ll do my best. Despite what is often perpetrated, leaders don’t do everything alone. I despise it when the success or failure of something is placed squarely on the shoulders of one person. Ninety percent of the time, that isn’t the case. Each of you know this to some degree. Those people we laud as heroes or villains had help. They had advisors, they had comrades and friends. Something that often get forgotten about. I’m no exception.

I found very early on that ignoring the advice of people other than yourself is stupid and egotistical. Creating barriers between yourself and the ones under your command often leads to rifts and questions that could easily be avoided. I may be in command of XCOM, but I will not be the only one to make it succeed, nor do I want to.

So effective immediately, I’m forming an internal council within XCOM. Each of you have different strengths, weaknesses and perspectives. Thus I want each of you to be part of this council.”

Bradford nodded in approval, but he’d likely guessed where this was going a while ago. Shen cocked his head and pursed his lips as if he wasn’t sure what to make of him. Vahlen looked surprised and shifted in place.

“I’m flattered that you would consider me, Commander,” Vahlen began hesitantly. “But…I’m not a military strategist. I’m not sure how much useful advice I could give…”

The Commander raised his hand and she trailed off.  “I disagree with the opinion that your advice is less valuable simply because you lack military experience. Diversity is essential in any council, at least for me. Aside from that, another reason you belong on this council is for communication. Efficiency is important and all of us must be on the same page. There will be no “left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing” situations. XCOM will be working in unison, and that requires everyone to be informed.”

“A smart move, Commander.” Shen complemented.

“Agreed,” Bradford said. “I assume our duties to this council will reflect our current assignments?”

“Yes,” The Commander nodded. “It’s pretty self-explanatory; each of you will give updates from your…divisions, for lack of a better word. Research, Engineering and Analysis and Reconnaissance, respectively. I in turn will keep each of you informed on the status of the war and make changes as necessary. If new divisions are created within XCOM, the overseer of them will also be added to this council. Questions?”

The three of them looked at each other and Vahlen stepped forward. “We don’t have any at the moment, Commander. Proceed.”

The Commander nodded. “Excellent. Now that all the formal stuff is out of the way we can get down to business. I’ve spoken to each of you individually about various matters. Before I proceed I’d like each of you to give a brief overview of what was decided. Short notice, I know. I promise you’ll have more warning next time. Bradford?”

Bradford nodded and began giving his update about what they decided relating to satellite placement, with the Commander adding in his reasons and overall strategy. There wasn’t much contention or disagreement. But the Commander knew it was only temporary. It was easy to be in agreement when there weren’t any consequences. Something that would change as the war progressed.

Shen gave an overview of what his team was developing, even showing schematics and detailed plans on the monitor. Well prepared for such short notice. When he finished, Shen decided to add something else.

“I had planned to bring this up later, Commander,” he said as a new image appeared. It appeared to be the area underneath the Citadel. “But since we have an internal council, I don’t see the point in delaying.”

The Commander nodded. “Go ahead.”

Shen pressed a button on the tablet and the area underneath the Citadel was segmented into miniature rectangles. “We’ve penetrated the area underneath the Citadel,” he said. “The areas underneath are stable and we could use them to continue to expand our base,” he highlighted an area that the Commander assumed as solid rock. “We’d have to excavate this area and likely many more, but that would let us access the other areas underneath the Citadel.”

“So what could we construct down there?” The Commander inquired.

“Additional workshops, labs, specialized areas,” Shen shrugged. “We could construct whatever we needed. Be warned that our power reserves are limited and will have to build additional generators the more we construct and further down we go.”

“Do we have areas open for construction now?”

Shen nodded. “Yes,” and indicated an open area near the elevator shaft. “Do you want to start construction?”

The Commander crossed his arms. “What would you recommend?”

Shen didn’t hesitate. “We have facilities dedicated to producing and testing equipment. But have nothing designed to _improve_ them. An area dedicated solely to improving our equipment would substantially increase XCOM’s effectiveness. My team has designated it as the ‘Foundry.’”

The Commander nodded and looked at Vahlen. “Doctor, do you have recommendations?”

She nodded. “Yes. I believe we can safely say that eventually one of these aliens will be brought back alive. We need some sort of containment where we can observe them safely instead of risking traditional cells.”

“Doctor,” Shen interrupted. “While I believe that will be an issue eventually, we barely know anything about them _now_. We need to know far more before even _thinking_ of capturing them.”

She turned to him. “But shouldn’t we be prepared for the possibility? Our soldiers are capable and I would not want to have them capture an alien only for use to terminate it due to safety concerns.”

“I don’t contest that,” Shen continued. “But this isn’t a priority now. We need to focus on learning and making sure our soldiers are still alive so they _can_ capture aliens for you.”

“I’m inclined to agree with Shen,” Bradford interjected. “Once we know specifics about what these aliens are and how they work, _then_ we can focus on containing them.”

Vahlen appeared to concede. She inclined her head. “Point taken, gentlemen. Anything to add Commander?”

“Not at the moment,” he responded evenly. “Bradford.”

“The Foundry should be our priority,” he answered. “But you should be aware that the Citadel has a limited uplink capacity. We’ll only be able to access up to four satellites at a time. If we want to establish coverage over Earth, more will have to be built.”

“Noted,” the Commander said. “Vahlen, the alien containment will have to be built eventually, but not now. Once you finish your research and we devise a safe way to capture the aliens alive, _then_ we can discuss containment,” He looked at Shen. “Begin construction on the Foundry. Any objections?”

All of them shook their head. The Commander leaned against the desk. “Good. Vahlen, continue.”

She began giving her update, explaining where her team was focusing as well as some of the other research paths for further study later. Shen seemed to agree with her and understood her reasons for focusing on the aliens. Bradford didn’t.

“Sorry, doctor,” his tone was skeptical. “But I don’t agree. The lives of our soldiers are more important than some _possible_ information from their corpses.”

Vahlen was prepared. “Like I explained, this could lead to new advance across the board for XCOM. Once we know our enemy, we can learn to kill them easily.”

“And what happens if you don’t learn as much as you wanted?” Bradford challenged. “We have few soldiers as it is and we _need_ improved weapons and armor if we want to stand a chance.  How many will die because of your _curiosity?”_

“Don’t disregard our soldiers so easily,” Shen interrupted. “They can hold out for the few days it takes for Vahlen to complete her work.”

“We might not have a few days,” Bradford insisted. “We’ve already disrupted the alien’s operations and handed them two rather devastating defeats. They’re going to focus all their energy on us soon. We can’t afford to take that chance.”

Vahlen’s tone turned sharp. “Do you think that weapons are going to magically appear if we research the fragments? No, they won’t. I don’t even know if we’ll even gain anything useful with them. These are completely new areas of research, Bradford. _Nothing_ is guaranteed and _everything_ is potentially risky. What if the aliens respond to our advanced weaponry by sending even more dangerous units against us? How many soldier would die then? And we’ll be _right_ back where we started.”

There was silence.

“Your opinion is noted,” the Commander finally interjected. “But in this case I agree with Vahlen. We need to think in the long term and see the big picture. It’s likely some soldiers will die because of our decision. But this is reality. We have to make practical decisions, not idealistic ones.”

The corners of Bradford’s lips twitched. “Understood, Commander.”

The Commander nodded at Vahlen. “Thank you, doctor. Now!” he pushed himself up and went behind his desk and pulled out several tablets. “I’ve not been idle either,” he explained as he handed them out. “Part of my job is preparing for the worst and I’ve written contingencies for each situation I can think of. More will likely be added but I want these reviewed and implemented as soon as possible.”

The screens on the tables displayed a list divided into two parts and each name had a file attached to it.

* * *

 

XCOM Contingency Outline

Authorization Level: Internal Council

_The Athena Contingency_

_The Hephaestus Contingency_

_The Hestia Contingency_

_The Hades Contingency_

_The Aphrodite Contingency_

_The Demeter Contingency_

Authorization Level: Soldier

_The Janus Contingency_

_The Zeus Contingency_

_The Apollo Contingency_

_The Thanatos Contingency_

_The Hera Contingency_

_The Artemis Contingency_

* * *

 

“Any particular reason you named them after Greek mythology?” Shen asked.

“To change it up,” The Commander shrugged. “I used Egyptian mythology last time. I enjoyed reading about the Greeks so I choose them this time.”

Bradford whistled as he read. “You really do plan for the worst case scenario.”

The Commander gave a wry smile. “Comes with the job. I hope I never have to use them, but I’m prepared for it.”

“For the sake of the world, I hope we never have to use these.” Shen muttered softly.

“The world will recover from a few destroyed cities,” the Commander stated grimly. “But not an alien invasion.”

“But a line must be drawn somewhere,” Shen protested as he kept reading. “Some of these…some of these are borderline, no, _are,_ unethical.”

The Commander appraised him. “Have you ever fought in a war, Doctor?”

“That’s beside the point,” Shen contested. “Basic ethics and rules of war don’t change simply because we’re fighting aliens.”

The Commander found his fists unconsciously closed. He had a few choice words about the place of ethics in warfare, not to mention the so-called _rules of warfare_. It was very simple: Ethics had no place on the battlefield and _rules of warfare_ didn’t exist. This was what happened when politicians applied _morals_ to warfare. You got civilians like Shen acting like war was a game with rules that everyone followed. And what was worse? That the majority of people actually _agreed_.

Uninformed, idealistic, _civilians_.

Unfortunately, saying anything like that would raise suspicion and cause division which was something that couldn’t be afforded now.

But he didn’t blame Shen. It was simply part of the pacifistic culture and it followed that civilians would have a much different view than soldiers. In fact, many soldiers would likely find his stances extreme. But while often harsh and brutal, his methods worked, no one could deny that. He understood why people had issues with his methods, he really did.

But that didn’t make them right. Nor did it stop them from becoming major annoyances.

“Perhaps,” his feigned concession sounding unconvincing even to him. “But these are worst case scenarios. The one’s you’re thinking of likely won’t even happen.”

“The Commander’s right,” Bradford backed him up. “This is standard in the military. Besides, this is why this council was formed, so we could give our feedback.”

That seemed to appease Shen. _Thank you Bradford_. “Yes,” he said. “These aren’t final, but I would like suggestions very soon.”

“Very well, Commander,” Shen said. “Will there be anything else?”

“One more thing,” The Commander tapped on his tablet and the contingencies were replaced with a soldier list. “Because we’ll be getting some advanced equipment and weapons from your engineers, Shen, I thought it best to put it to use.”

The Commander rested back against the desk. “Many of our soldiers have specialized training in many areas, so I created specific specialties for them to maximize their effectiveness.”

“Good thinking,” Bradford nodded. “You have some of them marked. What does that mean?”

“Promotions,” he explained. “The soldiers who’ve performed well will get promoted and assigned their specialty.”

Vahlen nodded. “That sounds good. When will you give the promotions?”

“Later today,” he answered. “But I need to do one thing first. I believe that covers everything. Dismissed.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Training Area_

Patricia slammed her fist into the boxing bag, causing it to fly back from the force of her gauntleted fist.  A second fist followed and she didn’t let up. The bag took punch after punch, minute dents riddled the leather from the gauntlets.

With each punch she envisioned the gray head of the alien. Each swing of her fists was retribution for the loss she suffered. Each punch vengeance for the fallen. The rage she kept contained came out gradually, intensifying with each dull thud. Her fists became faster, harder, stronger.

Each emotion she’d kept bottled up, each fleeting thought condensed into one, single, pure emotion.

Rage.

All rational thought became muted as her world narrowed to one single, helpless, punching bag. Her anger reached boiling point. With a yell she drew her knife and slashed across the bag. Tossing it aside she grabbed the torn fabric and slammed her right fist over and over into it as sand poured out onto the floor.

With one final shout she put all her strength into one final swing. A dull thud rang out and her fist rested on the bag. Her heart pounded and breath came in short bursts. She stood there for nearly a minute. _Oh right, the bag._

Remembering the object of her rage, she grabbed the duct tape that was lying on the floor and did her best to patch up the bag.

For the third time.

She winced. It honestly wasn’t her intention to keep mutilating the object. But it had just…sort of happened. It was the reason these…well… _sessions_ worked for her. Having an outlet like this prevented any _serious_ issues. But it was irresponsible of her and didn’t reflect well. Still, it was impressive how much damage these things could take.

She swept up the excess sand and threw it out. With a sigh, she leaned against the wall and wiped the sweat off her face. She took a sip of water, how long had it been? Two? Three hours? By all rights she should be exhausted. Groaning, she knew she still had enough energy to keep going for at least another round. She’d thought that training in her armor would increase her fatigue and lower the time she spent here. Apparently not. She supposed that was a good thing?

  She shook her head. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t leaving until she could barely stand. Paige had tried stopping her, telling her that she didn’t need to “punish herself” as she so elegantly put it. But she did, otherwise she’d have nightmares, she’d be haunted by the specter of the woman who’d died under her command. All her emotions of guilt, sadness and anger would stay bottled up and she knew that if she kept them, one day she would snap.

She didn’t know why pushing herself to the point of exhaustion helped her. But if she had to guess, it was because this provided an outlet for her. She was a fiery person, she knew that. People’s minds moved slowly to her, they didn’t view things in the same light which often lead to frustration. Even Paige encouraged her to keep better control of her emotions.

So she had. Or at least tried. She removed her personality every mission and focused on commanding her squad. For the most part it worked, but every so often all those bottled up emotions came out. She’d nearly lost control when Vicky had died and taken it out on that alien. Tearing it’s arm off had snapped her out of it, luckily. Losing control in the middle of a mission was unprofessional and she had to work on that.

She unclenched and clenched her fists and pushed herself up from the wall. Time for another round. She turned around at the sound of the door hissing open. Hello, what was this?

A man entered carrying a case. He wore a black long-sleeve shirt and military pants. His combat boots clicked on the tile floor, echoing through the training area. She cocked her head. She was fairly certain she’d never seen him before. Interesting, if she had to guess he was around…mid-thirties? Somewhat old for a soldier, but not unheard of.

Still, he was well-built and tall. Special forces, probably. What was he doing here now? Far as she knew, everyone was in the barracks. She hesitated, the proper thing to do would be to go and greet him. But it seemed…awkward with just the two of them.

The man noticed her and glanced her way. He gave a half smile, placed his case down and approached her.

“Hello,” he said, his deep voice welcoming. “Apologies if I interrupted you. I didn’t think anyone was here.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, it’s a free gym and I was taking a break anyway.”

He gave a smile. “Good to hear,” then noticed the punching bag. He raised an eyebrow.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

She hissed between her teeth. “Yeah, that. I’ve had…well, a stressful day.”

“Want a partner?”

She shrugged, he seemed friendly enough and she’d likely be working with him soon. “If you want, I don’t want to ruin whatever you had planned.”

“It can wait,” He moved behind the bag as she raised her fists. “That must be exhausting.”

“What is?” She questioned as her fists started punching.

“Your armor,” he answered. “I know that it isn’t exactly light.”

She debated whether to come up with a different answer. Nah. She didn’t feeling like speaking in riddles. “It tires me out faster.”

She didn’t see his reaction, but could imagine some surprise. “Interesting,” he commented. “How long have you been here?”

“Two, three hours. Don’t really know.”

She heard him whistle as she alternated fists. “Impressive. I’d say that you filled your exercise quota for the day.”

She scowled. “I’m not leaving yet.” And kept punching. The man was silent for a few minutes.

“So why are you here now?” he asked. “Most of the soldiers are holding something of a memorial service for the woman that was killed.”

She didn’t want to discuss this now. “I don’t deserve to be there.”

“Why is that?”

“Because she died under my command.”

“Ah,” was all he said as her pace increased. “I understand.”

 _Unlikely_ , she though. “Do you? Really?”

“You could say that. Was her death your fault?”

She paused and looked at him. He seemed genuinely interested, or maybe she was too exhausted to notice. Well, she’d told him, might as well see it through. “I don’t know,” She admitted. “Everyone keeps telling me it wasn’t, that I couldn’t do anything. But I keep replaying it in my head and I realize I _could_ have done something. But would it have saved her? I don’t know.”

He nodded. “A lie perpetrated by those who don’t know better. They mean well, but won’t understand until it happens to them.”

She cocked her head at him with interest. “Maybe you do know something. Where did you come from?”

“United States black ops,” he answered softly. “Death was fairly common.”

“Ah.” She didn’t know what to say. She’d heard stories about the stuff espionage operatives had to go through that made her experience look like a party. “Sorry to hear that.”

The corners of his lips turned up. “Appreciated. But I don’t regret it. Each man and woman died in service to their country. There are worse ways to be remembered.”

“Perhaps,” she answered. Then winced. “I apologize, I didn’t introduce myself. Patricia Trask.” She extended her hand which he took.

He inclined his head. “Pleasure to meet you.”

He didn’t offer his name. Fair enough, she probably learn it soon anyway. “You new here?” she asked, curious.

“You could say that,” he replied neutrally. “I’m still getting used to it.”

She sighed. “Tell me about it. It’s insane, I mean, just last week aliens didn’t exist and now we’re at war with them.”

“I find it unlikely that we didn’t have _any_ knowledge of extraterrestrial life,” he commented. “Else XCOM wouldn’t exist.”

She raised her eyebrow. Well, well, an intelligent human. “You’re the first person to actually notice that. I’m impressed.”

He looked mildly surprised. “That governments normally know more than they let on? That’s normal, based on my experience.”

She nodded. Hmm…maybe there _were_ other people besides Paige who she could have an actual conversation with. Then she remembered where they were. “Sorry for the chatter. You didn’t come here to talk.”

“Nor did you, I imagine,” he responded, with a small smile.

She indicated the bag. “You want a go?”

He looked over at his case. “That was my plan, but since you’re here…” he glanced over to the training floor placed in the middle of the room and looked back. “You ever spar?”

She frowned. “Not really.”

“Interested in trying?”

She walked up by him. “Why not? Though I don’t really know much about it.”

He walked over to his case and opened it. In it was his XCOM-issue armor, though it was painted a dull silver in contrast to her tan gear. “It’s very simple,” he explained as he geared up. “Subdue your opponent however you can. Avoid breaking bones and soften blows to the face. Otherwise, free reign.”

She hesitated. “Is this…ah, legal? It sounds like something that the Commander may not approve of.”

The man grinned as he fastened his gauntlets. “I asked the Commander. He said it was fine.”

“Nice guy.”

He chuckled, but didn’t comment. “I find this a much better way to let loose than punching a bag for hours on end. Having an actual opponent fighting back is exhilarating.”

She was looking forward to seeing if this guy was as good as she imagined. He hadn’t spoken of his ability once and that generally meant that he was probably a decent combatant. So, no broken bones or face blows. Got it. She could do this.”

“Heads up!” he called as he tossed her some kind of mask. It fully covered her face and was designed like a hockey helmet without the actual helmet, just the facemask. “These are generally unsafe,” the man explained as he pulled his on. “Hitting these barehanded is not a good idea. But since we’re both armored, I think it negates that problem.”

She adjusted it. It fit her face fairly well, even though it was likely designed for him. She grinned and together they both walked to the center of training floor. She raised her fists. “Ready.” He smiled and placed his right hand over his chest while inclining his head. She paused.

Hadn’t that silent sniper given her the exact same- _ugh_. She barely reacted in time as the man slammed into her and nearly drove her to the floor. He began raining blows down on her, on her mask and chest. She hissed and kicked him in the chest forcing him back and letting her fully stand.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet he raised his fists for her inevitable counter-attack. She dashed forward with alternating punches at his face and chest. He blocked them pretty handily, but was forced to give ground as she kept up her relentless attack. He blocked her chop by placing his arms in an x shape and she used that to swing her fist at her exposed head.

Unfortunately, he expected that and sidestepped and she stumbled forward from the momentum of her swing. Then yelled as he grasped her ponytail and pulled down causing her fall on her back. _Now_ she was angry. For whatever reason, he didn’t take advantage and she rolled over and pushed up to see him standing in front, arms behind his back, waiting.

She bared her teeth. He would regret his mercy.

Anger building with each step she methodically advanced toward him. Her right fist balled and she swung with all her might and he, instead of blocking, grabbed her arm within inches of his facemask and directed the momentum downward and as she fell his right forearm slammed into the middle of her faceplate on the way down.

Head ringing, she forced herself up once again, white eyes blazing with anger. She felt no pain. Only rage.

“You’re angry,” she heard him say. “You let your rage control you and make mistakes. Use it, but don’t let it rule you.”

She closed her eyes as her heart pounded. She opened them again and her world focused down to a single individual. One man who thought he could beat her. She took in every detail as she stormed over to him. Firm stance, open palms and emotionless eyes. There were several different approaches she could take.

Mirroring her last attempt, she made like she was going to punch him again but as he raised his hand to deflect, she pulled back and alternated fists. He stumbled back from the force and finally went on the offensive.

Instead of blocking his blows, she caught them. She grabbed his right wrist and his other fist was caught in her palm. Pressing on, he pushed forward and she responded just as vigorously. She forced his trapped wrist it back slowly, taking every remaining ounce of strength. His only facial expression was a small grin. He was strong, no doubt about it. But she was driven by something he didn’t have.

At the moment he was about to take a step back, she thrust her head forward, slamming into his facemask. He stumbled back and she used the opportunity to kick his chest and he stumbled to the ground. Wasting no time she leapt on him, pinning his chest with her knee and right arm with her boot.

He was hers.

He tried fighting back but she simply hooked her fingers in his facemask and whipped it back in forth until he stopped. While he was disoriented, she began landing blow after blow on his mask. After nearly thirty seconds he raised his free hand.

“I concede.” He said.

His words penetrated the veil of her anger and she stood up, gasping. He pulled off his mask, seemingly not even winded. “You fight well,” he complimented. “I’m impressed.”

She wanted to say something but the adrenaline had faded, leaving her exhausted. “Yeah,” she muttered. “You to-“and sank to her knees. Her vision fuzzy, she closed and opened her eyes as she shook her head. The man knelt in front of her with what she assumed was a water bottle. She grasped it and gulped down the liquid.

A few seconds later her vision returned to normal and she shakily stood up. The man eyed her with concern. “I think you’ve done enough for today.”

“Agreed,” she said between shaky breaths. “I think…I need a nap.”

“Can you make it back to the barracks?” He asked.

“Yeah, yeah I can.”

He nodded. “Ok, you should probably get going. You never know when you’ll get called for duty.”

She nodded mutely. “Nice to meet you, I’m sure I’ll see you again. Maybe we can do this again some other time?”

He chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon. And I’d be happy to.”

She began walking towards the door and gave a final wave without looking back.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

_Six hours later_

Shawn Cage hated waiting. Not that he didn’t have patience, but there were some things that just set him off. Doctor’s visits, paychecks and waiting in front of the Commander’s office ranked among them.

Well, at least he wasn’t alone, which meant that this was probably something big. Liam, Myra and Abby were with him. There were a couple of others that he didn’t know that well. That confrontational woman, Patricia, was it? And her friend, Paige, who he’d spoken briefly with at the impromptu memorial service.

Despite their first meeting, if what Paige had told him was accurate, Patricia was taking the loss of Vicky hard, which was apparently typical. By all accounts it hadn’t been her fault, yet she still acted like it was. He didn’t get it. This self-punishing attitude that persisted throughout the military didn’t help anyone. She’d done her best and unlucky stuff had happened. When everyone told you it wasn’t your fault, Shawn believed that then it might be wise to listen to them.

Well, nothing he could really do for her.

All of them were in uniform, minus the helmets, so it wasn’t exactly comfortable standing around. Despite his apprehension, he was very interested in meeting this Commander. From what Liam, Myra and Abby had told him, he was intelligent, charismatic, empathetic and welcoming. High praise. Which told him that the Commander was likely putting on an act of some kind. No one could be that perfect.

The door hissed opened. _Finally_. They all walked in single file and lined up in front of an empty desk. “Behold,” he muttered. “The great invisible commander.”

“Shut up.” Abby muttered through gritted teeth. At least Myra and Paige cracked a smile. Seriously, they didn’t need to be so tense _all_ the time. The door at the end of the room hissed opened and the man who Shawn assumed was the Commander walked out.

He wore jet-black military fatigues and a vest with the XCOM logo emblazoned on the upper right chest. His combat boots clicked on the tiled floor and he walked to greet them. He looked that part of a Commander, that was for sure. His stern face and calculating eyes indicated a man who took his role seriously. Shawn decided it best not to act _too_ unprofessional in front of him. But he _was_ the Commander, so he could be forgiven for not relaxing a bit.

He heard a brief noise that sounded between a hack and choke. He glanced over at Patricia and raised an eyebrow. She looked like she’d seen a ghost and whatever blood had been in her pale face was gone. He looked away. Maybe she was overwhelmed by the presence of the great Commander?

“Thank you for coming,” he greeted them. _Because we had a choice_? Shawn thought sarcastically. Why did people in authority always thank their subordinates as if they had a choice in the matter. To his credit, the man sounded sincere.

“I’ll get to the point,” the Commander continued. “I wanted you here for two reasons. First and foremost, each of you have been promoted to the rank of Specialist.” Shawn smiled. Nice, though he had no idea what the heck a specialist was or what it meant.

“Now, you may be wondering what a specialist it,” he continued. _Did you just read my mind?_ “In essence, it means you get access to specialized equipment as well as authority over the privates. Which leads into my second point.” He picked up some sheets of paper from the desk and walked over to the end of the line.

“Each of you will have access to equipment that best compliments your abilities and previous military background. There are eight divisions that I believe cover most specialties. He handed a sheet of paper to Abby. “Specialist Abigail Gertrude, Medic.”

He walked in front of Shawn and handed him a sheet. “Specialist Shawn Cage, Assault.”

 _What does that mean?_ He looked at the sheet of paper which had official looking stuff written on it. “ _Your role as the assault specialist is…blah blah blah…authorization: Shotgun”_. He grinned. _Aw yess._ The Commander kept going down the line. “Specialist Myra Rodriguez, Infantry.”

She accepted with a nod. He continued. “Specialist Liam Jaster, Infantry.”

Down the line and he stopped in front of a strangely nervous Patricia. The Commander smiled for some reason. “Patricia Trask, Gunner.”

One more left. “Paige Broker, Engineer.”

He walked to the center of the line. “Congratulations, each of you earned them. Remember that it only gets harder from here. Dismissed.” With that he placed his right fist over his chest and inclined his head. It was clearly his version of a salute. Shawn responded in kind and each of them followed his example.

Then they all walked out, all professional like, and the instant they were out Patricia grabbed Paige’s arms and practically dragged her away. He watched in amusement as they left. “Wonder what that was about.”

Liam shrugged. “Not a clue. Maybe she knew him?”

“I’ll try to find out,” Abby promised walking up beside him.

“Try to be somewhat subtle.” He sighed.

She fixed him with a patronizing look. “When am I _not_?”

He grinned. “Ohh, sarcasm. Nice.”

“Well, let’s discuss it on the way back,” Myra told them walking off. “I’m tired of standing here.”

With a chorus of agreement, they followed her back to the barracks.

* * *

 

The Commander leaned back in the chair with a smile on his face. The look on Patricia’s face had been priceless. He wondered how she would handle it.

 _“Commander,”_ Bradford’s voice come over the intercom. _“We’ve got reports of an abduction in Egypt. Sending details._ ”

He sprang up. “Copy, Bradford. I’ll get a squad ready now.”

_“We’ll stand by to assist. Bradford, out.”_

Time to get back to work.

 

 

 

 

           


	8. Alien Abduction: Egypt

 

_Skyranger, En route to Abduction Zone._

Luke Warner took slow breaths as the plane flew toward their destination. At least they wouldn’t be going in completely blind this time. The reports of the two previous missions had been flying around the barracks and he’d personally found it hard to believe some of them. Telepathic little gray creatures and flying drones that shot lasers seemed far-fetched at best.

So he’d done the most logical thing and decided to speak to one of the people who’d _actually_ been on the mission. Something that seemed to have flown over the heads of everyone else. And what a fascinating conversation it was; the woman he’d spoken to, Paige, had been more than happy to share what had happened.

Unfortunately, the conversation hadn’t exactly been…well, _encouraging_. It was rare that rumors actually turned out to be true, but it was in this case. Not that the danger mattered personally to _him._ His life was nothing, he was more concerned for the rest of the squad.

He didn’t know them well, but had seen them enough to remember names. The two Americans, Abe Trapp and Adrian Francis, seemed capable enough. They had said that both of them were both from the United States Army, but nothing more. It highlighted an interesting part of XCOM; that most soldiers seemed to be made up of special forces rather than regular infantry. Then there were the outliers like him who had no professional military experience.

There was Roman Mendoza, who was _supposedly_ from Mexico. Luke was somewhat, well no, he _was_ skeptical of that. The man looked exactly the opposite of a regular Mexican, not to mention his noticeable English accent. He had admitted he was part of Mexican CISEN, Mexico’s Intelligence agency, so that would account for his slightly questionable background. It would be interesting to see how effective an intelligence agent would be in regular warfare. If any of this could be called _regular_.

Then there were the two women. Carma Hoyle was an Australian and had made sure everyone knew it. From observing her, she seemed impulsive, hotheaded and reckless. Not a good combination in war. He’d have to watch her. As to her capabilities, he had no idea.

The Squad Overseer on the other hand, was the most intriguing to him. Aside from him, she was the most silent person he’d seen at the base. She tended to keep her face shrouded but despite that, she possessed an intensity that was impossible to hide. When she spoke, people paid attention. But all he knew about her was that she was Israeli, probably special forces. Squad Overseer wasn’t a position handed to just anyone, so he was interested to see how effective she was.

_“This is Big Sky to Raven Team, we’re about thirty minutes out from the extraction site. Stand by for orders from the Commander within fifteen minutes.”_

“”Raven Team,”” Abe repeated. “These aren’t exactly traditional designations.”

“From what I heard,” Adrian said. “The Commander isn’t exactly a typical person.”

“Hmm,” Abe wondered. “Perhaps it’s symbolic for something?”

Carma snorted. “Unlikely,” she interjected, her Australian accent pronounced. “You Americans look way to deeply into things. Why can’t it just be a raven?”

 “The Commander _is_ American.” Abe pointed out.

“So he is,” she admitted. “But from what I’ve heard, I don’t think he’d bother with symbolism.”

“And from what _I’ve_ heard,” Roman interjected. “That’s _exactly_ what he would do.”

“Until you talk to him,” Luke said. “I don’t think you can make assumptions either way.”

They all looked at him.

“He speaks,” Carma declared in amazement. “I wasn’t sure he was able.”

He gave her a sidelong look. “And just _why_ would you assume that?”

She stared at him. “Really? Aside from the fact that I’ve never seen you talk, _at all_ , in the base? You just silently observe everything, it’s kinda strange. And creepy.”

He smiled underneath the helmet. People with her outlook amused him. “Most people talk too much. You tend to learn more by _listening_ before opening your mouth.”

She sat back up as if offended, though he knew it was likely just for show. “While you’re in this sudden talkative mood,” Adrian interrupted. “Could you say who exactly you are? Because Abe and I could swear we’ve seen you before somewhere.”

“You probably have.”

“C’mon, don’t leave us in suspense.”

Well, it was going to get out eventually. But perhaps he could gain something from this. “You first.”

Adrian shrugged. “Not much to say really, I’m Adrian, clearly,” he motioned at Abe. “He’s Abe. Both proud members of the United States Army. We both met at boot camp and decided to stick together ever since. I guess we did well enough that we caught the attention of someone important.”

“Now that you have essential information,” Abe redirected. “ _Your_ turn.”

“Luke Warner.”

 _That_ got their attention. Even the reserved Squad Overseer looked his way. Roman whistled. “Like, _the_ Luke Warner? The Olympian?”

“The very same.” He took off his helmet for them to see and gave what had been his trademark smile. He was older now, but still fit the image of the young perfect German. Blue eyes and blonde hair on a perfectly photogenic face.

“I cannot believe I missed this,” Abe said in amazement.

Luke placed the helmet back on. “I don’t exactly advertise it.”

Carma shook her head. “What the hell are you doing in XCOM? Do you have some secret military training that no one knows about?”

That amused him. “If I had, I’m certain the media would have wrung it out of me. No, but I am a rather proficient hunter.”

“Yeah, but XCOM doesn’t recruit just anyone,” Adrian insisted. “Not even record-setting, gold medal Olympian sprinters.”

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to share the actual reason for his recruitment yet. Hopefully never. “Then let me say that it’s personal.”

That didn’t deter Abe. “You can’t give a little clue?”

He let a bit of steel creep into his voice. “No.”

“Are-“

He cut himself off when the Overseer raised a fist in a clear signal to stop. That immediately got the attention of everyone in the skyranger. She slowly lowered it and directed her gaze on Abe Trapp.

For the first time, Squad Overseer Mira Vauner spoke directly to them, her helmet synthesizing her harsh voice. “The qualifications of Private Warner have been approved by the Commander himself. Cease your line of questioning.”

That shut him up. “Yes, Overseer.”

She looked around the skyranger. “Stand by for orders from the Commander.”

A few seconds later a new voice came through their helmets.

_“This is the Commander to Raven Team. Six hours ago a town just north of Cairo went dark and satellite feeds haven’t detected movement to or from the town since. Thanks to the Egyptian councilor, the military is holding back, for now. You’ll have a limited window to insert, secure, and exit. Your objectives are as follows: Eliminate any alien threats in the vicinity and recover any artifacts. If you encounter any civilians, subdue them immediately and return to the Citadel._

“In the event we recover civilians,” Mira asked. “What should we do if they resist?”

_“I said subdue them. Force is authorized.”_

“Understood, Commander.”

Luke frowned. He hadn’t been in a military organization before, but was pretty sure words like _subdue_ and _force_ weren’t generally applied to civilians. But Mira was acting like it was normal so maybe he was looking too much into things? Something to ask the actual soldiers at the Citadel.

 _“Oh, and one more thing,”_ The Commander’s voice came through again. _“I know each of you are very excited to have a famous Olympian on board, but please, remember that he’s a soldier now and will be treated as such. Postpone any burning questions until later.”_ Luke smiled at that. _“And for the record, Abe, there is no symbolism for the squad name. Though there is a pattern. Think really hard and it’ll come to you.”_

Abe and Adrian looked at each other and that and he was pretty sure Carma was snickering behind her helmet. Abe shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. “Well. I guess the Commander was listening to that.”

_“It’s generally best to assume that someone is always listening. Good luck Raven Team. Citadel Command, out.”_

Roman gave the American a slow clap. “Well done, thanks to you we got our burning question answered.”

“Shut up,” Abe responded good naturedly. “At least I didn’t say anything insulting.”

Adrian groaned. “Stop talking. Please.”

Luke didn’t know if the Commander had intended his interjection to relieve the tension, but he was thankful regardless. Despite their seeming indifference, he could tell the young Americans were nervous. It really wasn’t that different from a locker room before a big race, only this time lives were at stake.

_“This is Big Sky to Raven Team, we’re two minutes from the Abduction zone. Overseer Vauner, prepare for insertion.”_

“Acknowledged, Big Sky,” she responded. “Raven Team!” she yelled while standing up. “At attention! Prepare to deploy!”

“Yes, Overseer!” They shouted in response as they rose and grabbed the handles hanging from the top of the skyranger. Luke didn’t grasp it. His balance was far better than a normal human’s and he was curious if he could stay steady during a deployment. He did note with amusement that despite her intensity and attitude, Mira was actually quite small,  barely coming up to his shoulder and he wasn’t even that tall.

_“Thirty seconds to deployment.”_

“Lock down vocoders!” Mira ordered.

He did instantly, though noticed some hesitation from the others. Was that not standard? It made sense to him, why let the enemy know you were coming? The skyranger shook as they hit the ground. The ramp lowered with the squeal.

“Deploy!” Mira ordered and they marched out into the foreboding desert.

* * *

 

It was as if time had stopped.

Luke heard nothing, saw nothing, and felt nothing. The sands shifted beneath their feet but otherwise there was nothing. They were literally in the middle of nowhere. Then he looked into the town they’d come to investigate. No lights shown from the buildings and it looked dark, desolate and abandoned.

The skyranger took off behind them and the voice of Big Sky came through their comms. _“Citadel Command, this is Big Sky. Raven Team is on the ground. Initiating Hawkeye Protocol.”_

He heard Mira take a breath. “Commander, this is Squad Overseer Vauner. We are on the ground. Permission to proceed?”

_“Permission granted, Overseer Vauner. Proceed.”_

Mira turned to them. “The aliens have been the ones to initiate a firefight during the previous two missions. That changes now.”

“You have a plan.” Roman stated.

She nodded. “We use the roofs. Five of us will move throughout them while one remains on the ground.”

“As bait.” Abe pointed out.

“As bait,” she repeated. “The aliens will be drawn to the lone soldier and anticipate an easy kill. When they reveal themselves, we wipe them out.”

“I volunteer.” Luke told her.

Everyone looked at him. To her credit, Mira didn’t question him. “Excellent. Walk through the town at your own pace. We’ll be shadowing you up top. Understood?”

“Yes, Overseer.”

She motioned with her rifle. “Move out, we’ll be behind you in five.”

He nodded and grasped his rifle and walked into the shadowy town. His boots clicked on the sandy pavement. Even he knew one unspoken rule in the military; you didn’t volunteer. Lucky he’d never been in one. He had a pretty decent explanation for volunteering if anyone asked. Simply put, he had faster reflexes than anyone of them. When the aliens inevitably ambushed him, he’d have the best chance of surviving and could easily outrun them. The truth was that his life didn’t matter, and as such, was more expendable. If they managed to win this war, the world would be changed forever and those men and women would be the ones leading the charge. But him? One way or another he wasn’t going to see it.

He shook his head to remove those thoughts. He’d analyzed the arguments in his head many times and this was definitely _not_ the time to reminisce. He rested his rifle on his shoulder as he kept walking, the buildings around him eerily dark and quiet.

 _“Any sign of them?”_ Mira asked over the helmet comm.

”No, Overseer. All clear for the moment.”

He cocked his head as he spotted something in what seemed to be the town square.

“Cancel that, Overseer. I might have something.”

_“Acknowledged. We’re right behind you.”_

He raised his rifle and advanced slowly on the strange object. It appeared to be a pod of some sort, or at least inspired by one. Cracks surround the pod, likely caused by the legs that had been embedded in the concrete. A pulsing green light emanated from the pod, and an otherworldly hum became more apparent the closer he got to it.

_“Private Warner, this is the Commander. Hold position.”_

He immediately froze. The pod continued pulsing as he pointed his rifle at it.

_“Squad Overseer Vauner, are you in position?”_

_“Affirmative, Commander. We are covering Private Warner now.”_

_“Be ready. We believe that the aliens use those pods in their abductions. We’ve not been able to recover a working one yet.”_

“Have the objectives changed, Commander?” Luke asked.

_“Negative. Proceed to the pod. Prepare for contact. The aliens are temperamental with their tech.”_

“Will do,” Luke promised and began taking slow steps toward the pod. Once he was close enough, he reached out cautiously to the pod. With a hiss compartments in the pod opened and spewed a green substance at him. With a shout he leapt back, missing the initial volley but some of the substance engulfed his leg.

“Squad Overseer, I’m incapacitated at the moment,” he informed her with a calmness that surprised even him. “I advise that you stand away from pod.”

_“Can you get free?”_

He tested the green substance. It was like being covered in rubber; it gave a little, but there was no way brute force would free him. He reached for his knife and tried cutting it. It proved surprisingly strong, but it would eventually be possible to cut himself free.

“I can get free eventually,” he informed her. “But it’ll take time.”

_“How much?”_

“Unknown,” he grunted as he worked. “Three, four minutes?”

_“Commander, I recommend bringing in artifact recovery. We may not get a chance to recover a working pod like this for a while.”_

_“Not until you secure the area, Overseer. These aliens are not careless. They would leave some sort of guard.”_

Luke was about to interject when he heard it. A faint, echoing chittering. Exactly like what Paige had described to him.

They were coming.

“Squad Overseer,” he warned, calmly. “Prepare. I hear them coming.”

_“When the shooting starts, get down.”_

“Will do.”

Effectively trapped, he got down on one knee and raised his rifle in the direction of the sounds. A low, mechanical whirring joined the chittering. Drones?

“Do you hear that?” he whispered, forgetting they had locked down their vocoders.

_“Drones. Yes, I do.”_

“You have a plan?”

_“When you spot the aliens do not fire. You’re trapped and alone. They’ll probably want to take you alive, not kill you. Wait for my signal.”_

He raised an eyebrow. “And if they _do_ want to kill me?”

_“Drop and we’ll improvise. You’ll know when the signal hits.”_

He sighed. “Acknowledged, Overseer.”

He placed the rifle on the ground, and drew his pistol while hacking at the substance holding him. Then saw them.

Three of the gray alien exactly as described. Tiny, frail creatures. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how they had posed much of a threat. Overwhelming numbers? Regardless, the center one pointed at him and the other two chittered as if in agreement. How they did that without any mouths was unnerving, but then, what wasn’t when it came to aliens?

They approached him slowly on all fours and as he looked left and right, he saw at least ten more. Drops of sweat rolled down his face as the creatures crept closer. It took every ounce of willpower to not pull the trigger. _Anytime you’re ready Mira_.

The mechanical whirring became much more noticeable and he looked up to see five of the drones flying overhead. Mira needed to act _now_ otherwise the drones would spot them. Two of the aliens moved to either side of him and grabbed his arms. He put up some token resistance but eventually allowed them to win. Their strength was greater than he assumed, but not impossible to escape from.

But escape was looking less and less likely by the second. The apparent leader cocked it’s head at him and it’s head was suddenly surrounded by a faint purple aura. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming. What was she waiting for? The alien extended it’s hand and several faint purple strands disengaged from it’s head and headed straight for him.

He relaxed himself. If this was the end, so be it.

But that _thing_ was not going to violate his mind.

He just focused on the telepathic alien, who looked back with unblinking eyes. They stared at each other for five seconds….ten seconds…still nothing. Luke frowned. He was fairly certain _something_ should have happened by now. The alien seemed just as confused as him. The purple aura vanished and it started chittering to it’s friends.

 _“Execute.”_ he heard the Commander order.

The ground was rocked by multiple grenade explosions which nearly threw them to the ground. Luke immediately wrestled himself free and blasted the alien who’d tried to invade his mind in the head. He threw the alien holding his left arm into the pod and punched the throat of the one on his right.

Grasping his knife, he stabbed the gray freak in it’s massive eye and as yellow blood sputtered from the wound, slit it’s throat. He grabbed his rifle and unloaded on the two wounded aliens. Once he was certain they were dead, he began taking in what was going on around him.

Automatic fire rang through the air and was answered by green weapon and laser bursts. Alien corpses littered the ground around him but he could see at least four of the aliens hiding behind boxes and buildings. One drone was still in the air, but Mira seemed to be directing fire at it and a few seconds later it was destroyed as well.

He took advantage of the distraction and quickly cut himself loose. The green film still stuck to his armor but he was free. Taking up cover behind a wall, he peeked around and took aim with his rifle.

 _“Frag out!”_ Abe yelled and Luke saw the aliens scamper away as another explosion rocked the street, destroyed the cover they’d taken shelter behind.

 _“We’ve got them now!”_ Abe crowed. _“Hunt ’em down!”_

 _“Stay put Private Trapp!”_ Mira ordered. But he saw the overeager soldier leap down from the roof and charge the retreating aliens.

“Take cover!” Luke yelled at him.

Time slowed down as he watched, helpless as one of the aliens raised it’s weapon from a covered position and fired green bolts at him. Each struck true and Luke hoped the young man died instantly.

“Man down!” he yelled as he opened fire on the alien’s position.

 _“Acknowledged,”_ Mira hissed, though he couldn’t tell if she was angry at herself or Abe for being so stupid.

Luke lined up another shot. Sixty percent, good enough. He took it and the alien fell to the ground riddled with bullets. One more down.

 _“Luke, move into a flanking position on my signal.”_ Mira ordered while the rest of them kept firing.

“Got it!” he yelled and gave her a thumbs-up to emphasize it.

_“Suppressive fire on remaining targets! Use flash-bangs at will!”_

That was his cue. As automatic fire rang through the town, he dashed to a ladder nearby that lead to the roof and he climbed it in record time. He probably broke all his Olympic records as he sprinted across the roof. He heard several pops as the flash-bangs went off. Not much time left. He sucked in his breath and with his customary grace, grabbed the edge of the roof and leapt down in one smooth motion.

It worked perfectly. The remaining aliens were caught completely off guard and he showed them no mercy as he mowed them down with his rifle, their chittering terror giving him a morbid satisfaction. He ceased firing and observed his handiwork.

Two dead aliens and one barely alive. The gurgling creature with blood spurting out from multiple wounds tried pitifully to crawl away as he marched up, but to no avail. If he had been faced with this situation a few years ago, he likely would have let the creature suffer. But now he saw no point. There was enough death and suffering, best not to add to it. He kneeled down, pulled out his knife again and pulled the alien’s head back and slit it’s throat and within a few seconds it was still.

He rose and saw the rest of the squad in the town square. Sheathing his knife and holstering his weapons, he joined them. Adrian was kneeling by Abe’s corpse and the rest of them stood a respectful distance away. Mira notice him and walked up.

“Good job,” she acknowledged as she inclined her head.

“Thank you.” He accepted the compliment and took off his helmet. “I’d like to ask you something. Privately, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.”

“You may not want anyone else to hear. It involves questioning your decisions. I know the military generally hates that.”

“Comms are severed from the squad for the moment. We can speak freely.”

He let out a breath. “Was there a specific reason you nearly let me be mind-probed?” Luke honestly wasn’t even that angry, just curious.

“I was under orders, otherwise I would have killed them the moment they grabbed you.”

He crossed his arms. “Your orders were what, exactly? Let me get mindfrayed and then killed.”

“No. To see if you could resist it.”

“The Commander ordered this.” It was a statement.

“Yes.”

“I see.”

Mira continued. “It was a risk, but the Commander needed to know if these mental abilities can be resisted or repelled.”

“I get it,” he gave a half-smile. “At least you chose the right person.”

Mira didn’t act relieved. “I’m glad you understand, as does the Commander. Know that I wouldn’t normally take such risks with your life.”

Luke placed his helmet back on. “It doesn’t much matter. I’ll be dead soon anyway.” Before she could respond, he walked to the others. He heard Mira calling the skyranger behind him.

“Big Sky, this is Squad Overseer Vauner. The area is secure. Bring in artifact recovery.”

_“Will do, Overseer Vauner. Coming in.”_

Luke thought about going over to the young man who’d just lost his best friend and offering what comfort he could. But decided against it. He knew his strengths and comforting or placating people was not among them. He was silent as the rest of the team stood around Abe’s body, only moving when the skyranger soared overhead.

Time to go home. For now.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Silent Eclipse

_Personnel:_

Raven 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Private Mira Vauner

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 4

Raven 2 – Private Roman Mendoza

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 2

Raven 3 – Private Abe Trapp

            **Status:** Deceased

            **Recorded Kills:** 3

Raven 4 – Private Luke Warner

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 6

Raven 5 – Private Adrian Francis

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 1

Raven 6 – Private Carma Hoyle

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 2

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Jason Olgard – Call sign: “Big Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-5x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-7x Alien Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-5x Alien Corpses (Unsalvageable)

-1x Alien Pod (Active)

-16 Alien Weapon Fragments

-25 Alien Alloys

-1x Jar of Alien Restraining Compound

 

 

 

 


	9. Air Contact: Scout

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

The Commander replayed the footage of the aliens attempting to mind-probe Luke Warner. The corners of his lips turned up again as he saw the alien fail.

He wondered how they felt, now that they’d been shown to be fallible.

It did raise some interesting questions, like how their powers worked, precisely. They’d been rather effective on several soldiers before, so was this particular alien weaker than the rest? Or was there another factor he was missing? He’d watched the vitals from Luke’s suit on the second replay and he’d stayed remarkably calm during the whole event. Perhaps there was a link between calmness and telepathic resistance? Something to ask Vahlen. In fact, he’d called her up to discuss this now, along with the recovered pod.

He’d locked it safely away for the moment and according to the last reports, it was still functional. The actual pod honestly wasn’t important to him. Once Vahlen extracted what she needed, he was happy to scrap the thing for the alien alloys. No, he was interested in the green substance it produced. The first thing would be to develop some kind of dissolving agent so his soldiers wouldn’t have to worry about being trapped. The second thing would be to weaponize it.

He smiled at that. He always enjoyed turning the weapons of his enemies against them.

A light blinked on his desk, indicating someone was waiting outside. Vahlen. He thumbed the button and the door slid open and looking as professional as ever, Dr. Vahlen walked in.

He turned to face her and inclined his head. “Vahlen, glad you could come.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” she replied while setting her tablet on the table. Upon closer inspection, she didn’t look quite as well as he’d first assumed. Her eyes were weary and she looked exhausted. Time to alleviate that as best he could.

He motioned her behind the desk. “Come here. You look exhausted.”

She waved a hand dismissively, but came over. “Nothing to concern yourself with, Commander. I’ll be fine.”

He indicated his chair. “Sit down. We don’t need to be standing all the time.”

She blinked at that. “That’s very kind of you, Commander. Thank you.” And she sat down. He grabbed a chair as he rewound the footage of Luke and the aliens.

“Now as for why I asked you here,” he began, sitting down. “Watch this.”

He played the footage and observed Vahlen leaning forward as the scene played out, her exhaustion slowly vanishing. The Commander paused the footage once the attack started. “Impressions?”

“Many,” she breathed. “This is the first time one of our soldiers has been able to resist their abilities. Now, this is unfounded speculation, but we might now be able to establish a link between our soldiers and their ability to resist them!”

“My thoughts exactly,” the Commander nodded. “I want you to run some tests on that soldier to see if anything is out of the ordinary.”

She nodded quickly. “That shouldn’t interrupt our schedule too much. Let me know when you want him examined.”

He leaned forward. “How is your research progressing?”

She brushed some strands of hair away from her face and smiled at him. “Very well, I expect we’ll have something to deliver in the next few days.”

He cocked his head. “How are you holding up?”

Her smile slowly faded and she let out a sigh. “Honestly, I’m managing. The rest of the team is the same. I fear that some of them are slowly becoming overwhelmed with the importance of our task.”

The Commander frowned. That wasn’t good. “Is this something to be concerned about?”

“Not yet. But the only thing that will really help is more scientists.”

“I’ll work on that,” the Commander promised as he pulled out a small jar. “Have you been informed of the pod that was recovered?”

“I have.”

He handed her the jar. “I don’t want this to interfere with the project going on now. But when you have time, I want this substance researched. A dissolving agent would be best.”

She took it and gently placed it in her lab coat. “Should this be our next priority after we finish researching the aliens?”

He shook his head. “No. Consider it as something of a side project to do on your own time. In the whole scope of projects, it really isn’t that important.”

She nodded. “Understood, Commander.”

He rose and extended his hand to her which she took. “That’s all I wanted to say, Vahlen. Thank you for coming.”

“Moira,” she corrected with a slight smile. “Just call me Moira.”

He inclined his head. “It’s a habit. I prefer to keep things as professional as possible.”

She leaned against the wall with a calculating look in her eye. “When we’re with the rest of the Council, absolutely. But just us? No need to be formal _all_ the time.”

He grinned. “Point taken, Moira. I’ll do my best to remember it.”

“See that you do,” she commanded lightly. “Now I should probably get back to work.”

Turning more serious, he sat back down at his desk. “As should I. Dismissed.”

He thought he heard her sniff at that, but mentally shrugged and moved on to more important matters. Once the door hissed shut, he opened the intercom to Bradford. “Bradford, send up Private Warner.”

_“Understood, Commander. Timeframe?”_

“Let him relax for a few hours.”

_“Will do. Anything else?”_

“Not right now. Keep a look out for alien movement. It’s only a matter of time before they take more notice of us.”

_“Understood. Bradford out.”_

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

Luke Warner laid back, his head hitting the pillow with a soft thump. Now that the adrenaline had faded he felt exhausted. Something he hadn’t experienced in months. The entire flight back he’d worked to get that green substance off him and had managed to remove most of it before touchdown.

The rest of the squad had split up shortly after landing. Everyone was individually debriefed and then had freshened up in the showers. Everyone except Mira, she’d disappeared somewhere else and he didn’t really care about finding her right now.

He closed his eyes. Some of the other soldiers were having subdued conversations at the table and the rest were in the mess hall. He’d thought about eating, but had decided against it in favor of sleep.

_“Private Warner to the Commander’s office. Private Warner to the Commander’s office.”_

His eyes snapped open at the sound of the female broadcaster. With a groan, he rolled over and sat up. So much for rest. But he had a pretty good idea of why the Commander wanted to see him. He began donning his armor again and paused. Was he required to wear _all_ his gear when speaking to the Commander? Probably….? He shrugged and kept going. Best not to risk it.

With his helmet tucked under his arm, he walked out of the barracks and began his walk to see the Commander.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

Luke stood outside the Commander’s office. He’d met with quite a few dignitaries during his career, but had to admit he was curious at how this man stacked up. What he’d heard had been positive, though he’d learned to temper his expectations over the years.

The door hissed open which he took as an invitation to come inside. The room was well lit and the Commander sat at a desk near the end of the small room. Behind him was a massive screen that Luke assumed was for planning his strategies. The Commander’s hands rested on the desk and he indicated the chair opposite him.

“Private Warner, welcome. Have a seat.”

Luke complied and sat down, placing his helmet gently on the desk and was immediately wary of the man facing him. Despite the smile on his face, his eyes were hard and calculating. He’d seen the same look from the Chinese ambassador who’d helped convict him. These kind of men were unpredictable, intelligent and dangerous. He’d have to be careful. The Commander had the power here and he knew it. He wondered what the Commander’s price for freedom would be.

“First, congratulations on a successful mission.”

Luke decided to play along for now. “Thank you, Commander. Though I wish everyone had managed to return.”

The Commander pursed his lips. “Private Trapp died to his own stupidity and overconfidence. I do not fault any of the squad for his death and have put him out of my mind. The mission was successful and you performed admirably.”

Luke blinked. Most commanders at least showed some form of sympathy for the fallen. Yes, Abe _had_ been stupid and reckless, but he was young and had done his best. He wasn’t sure if the manner of his death warranted the Commander’s…dismissal? He decided to test him.

“It was, Commander. He’ll be remembered as one of those who defended Earth from the alien threat.”

The Commander took it in stride. “By his friends and family, he certainly will be,” He steepled his fingers. “But that is not why you are here now.”

And here it came.

“You resisted the alien telepathy,” the Commander continued. “Do you know _how_ you did it?”

Well, that was not what he was expecting. Though certainly not unwelcome. He sighed. “I’m not exactly sure…I mean, I don’t think I can give you a clear answer or at least one you want.”

He nodded. “Understood, try anyway.”

“I just…focused. I concentrated on not letting _anything_ in. I tried putting all my energy into _not_ letting the alien probe my mind.”

The Commander leaned forward. “So you’re saying it was a conscious decision?”

Luke shrugged. “For me, yeah. But I don’t know if that’s how I resisted it.”

“You were remarkably calm during the ordeal. Why was that?”

“I’m expendable. I came to terms with my death long ago.”

The Commander scribbled something down on a piece of paper. “Interesting. Though I doubt that’s accurate.”

He cocked his head. “Sorry?”

“I don’t believe that people lack a fear of death,” the Commander looked up. “Those few that do usually don’t live very long. If you actually _were_ fearless you would have gone after more than just that teenager.”

Luke tensed at that. Here it came. The Commander continued as he looked him in the eye. “I think you’re more like me. I fear a meaningless death. You do as well. Why else would you join XCOM?”

It was slightly disturbing how the Commander had been able to figure him out so quickly. Nor did he expect for him to reveal any vulnerability of himself. It was…unexpected.

“Who are you?” Luke asked.

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking out of curiosity or to change the subject?”

He figured any subterfuge would probably be noticed. “You were able to determine the cause of my actions within a few minutes of meeting me. Not many can do that. So I suppose my answer is both.”

“At least you’re honest,” the Commander commented. “Though I do have some advantages, namely your file. And from there it wasn’t hard for me to create a mental psyche profile. But as to answer your question, I once oversaw part of a United States black ops team. And I answered to the Commander.”

The blood in his veins turned to ice. This was not going at _all_ like he imagined. He gave an awkward cough. “I…see.” He managed.

“I doubt it.”

Luke shook his head in apology. “No disrespect intended. I’d just heard that every one of his team had been…well, executed. For treason.”

He wished he could read faces well. The Commander’s face was completely blank. “You heard correctly,” he answered neutrally. “They were. But some defected before Mecca. I left when he assassinated the Vice President.”

Ok, that was better. Assuming he was telling the truth, at least he wasn’t dealing with some fanatic with aspirations to emulate the Commander. Now that he thought about it, _he_ was probably the reason the Commander had been caught and executed. He let out a sigh.

“I’m glad you did, Commander. The world is a much better place without him.”

“Yes, I’m sure it is.” There was something odd in his tone, but the Commander probably just didn’t like his past brought up. Something Luke understood.

The Commander shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Anyway, once you’re done here I want you to go down to the research labs. Dr. Vahlen will run some tests to see if there is a reason you were able to resist the alien.”

He nodded. “I’ll do that.”

The Commander reached down and pulled out a file. “Now the other reason I asked you here was pure curiosity. If you don’t want to discuss your past, I won’t force you.”

He hesitated. He knew that when a commanding officer ‘requested’ something it was never a choice. Yet he actually _believed_ that the Commander was being sincere. He was going to have to face this sometime. It might as well be now.

“No point in avoiding it, Commander. What do you want to know?”

“Your side. Files never tell the full story.”

He shrugged. “Sad to say that the file you have is probably accurate. I didn’t try to hide it.”

“But your government did,” the Commander noted. “And even by my standards, the death of an ambassador’s child is not something covered up easily.”

“I didn’t know he was the son of the Chinese ambassador,” Luke explained sadly. “All I knew was that he killed my wife and I wanted to return the favor.”

“You appear to have tracked him down fairly easily.”

“I’m a hunter. Humans are usually easier than animals. And the boy went to the same clubs and ran with the same gangs every night so it wasn’t hard. And I had resources from my Olympic days that most people don’t have.”

“But you knew where he was. Why not inform the authorities.”

Luke was silent for a few moments. “At the time, I believed that justice wouldn’t be delivered. He was a juvenile and you know that Germany abolished the death penalty decades ago. He would likely be put in prison for a few years and then released. I found that unacceptable.”

“Not to mention that it would make the Chinese look bad.” The Commander commented.

Luke grinned humorlessly. “That too.”

“Would you have gone after him if you knew who he was?”

“Probably. I wasn’t thinking very clearly when I did.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Yeah. It was impulsive and stupid and I only ended up making things worse. I killed a kid. Was it justified? Maybe. But that wasn’t for me to decide. I broke the law and deserved my sentence.”

The Commander appraised him. “You don’t think avenging your wife’s death was worth something?”

“In the short term? Perhaps. But I know she wouldn’t have wanted me in jail for a misguided attempt at vengeance. Any satisfaction I took I lost a long time ago.” He looked at the silent man across from him who looked deep in thought. “You know what it’s like, don’t you.”

“Yes. I do.”

He risked prying further. “Who did you lose?”

“In this context? My wife and son. Not to mention my friends who died on the battlefield.”

Luke shut up. He wasn’t going to keep pushing this further. The Commander continued. “I find it interesting. You were given a sentence of thirty years. A long time, but you’d get out and be treated well. But when given an offer from XCOM, you took it even if it meant a mandatory death sentence after one year.”

Luke’s hand unconsciously went to the back of his skull where the incision had been made. “I suspected that particular condition was included by the Chinese.”

“It was,” the Commander confirmed. “And it seems they did the job well. From the specs of the micro-bomb, any effort to remove it will result in your death. XCOM gets a soldier and you get out of jail,” the Commander leaned back. “But you would also die, and just based on that, most wouldn’t take that option. Why would you?”

Luke shrugged. “You explained it pretty well before, Commander. I don’t want to die for nothing. I consider this something of a repentance for what I did wrong. If I’m going to die, I’d rather be doing something that mattered.”

The Commander put the file away. “I will not make promises, but I’ll see what I can do to remove that _device_. There are other priorities at the moment, but I’m not going to let you die simply because some idio _-flawed_ justice system demands it.”

Luke was stunned.

Out of everything that could have happened this was something he’d never even _imagined_. “I…don’t know what to say…” he stuttered. “Th-thank you.”

The corners of the Commander’s lips turned upward. “I’ve spoken to many men and woman who deserved to die. You are not one of them, Luke Warner. I reiterate that no promises are made, but I will do my best. Now head to the labs, there are several more matters I need to attend to.”

Luke stood up and gave the best salute he could muster. “Thank you, Commander. I won’t let you down.”

The Commander placed his right fist over his chest and inclined his head. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Luke walked out, feeling more alive than he had in years.

* * *

 

It was risky. Overturning a death sentence imposed by the Chinese would not exactly help relations.

And yet, as the Commander reflected, he realized he didn’t care.

The man he’d just spoken too had done nothing wrong. He’d accurately noticed the inadequacy and failure of the supposed “justice system” and taken matters into his own hands. He’d avenged his wife and removed a menace to society. As far as the Commander was concerned, that barely warranted an investigation much less a conviction.

But as usual, the world worked very differently than what he would like.

He had been tempted to not say anything, just listen and let him go. But doing that would go against everything he stood for. The micro-bomb implanted in his head had started ticking a few days ago. There was plenty of time for Vahlen and Shen to develop a way to remove it.

And if China had a problem, well, they could come tell him in person.

He hoped they would. He hadn’t had the satisfaction of utterly disobeying the “orders” of another power for some time.

At the very least, he now had the complete loyalty of one soldier and that was almost worth as much. Now he needed to make sure that his loyalty was well-placed.

But that was a matter for another time. There were other tasks that demanded his attention. He opened a line to Bradford.

“Bradford, the contingencies are finalized and ready for distribution.”

_“Acknowledged, Commander. Do you wish them distributed now?”_

Shen had expressed his displeasure with a good part of what he’d written, but the combined persuasiveness of Bradford and Vahlen had helped alleviate some of his fears. It was fortunate this issue had been solved diplomatically. Internal disputes were not something he wanted to deal with now.

“Yes, the sooner we get them out, the better.”

_“Will do, Commander. Bradford, out.”_

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

_Three hours later_

Pretty much every soldier had been surprised to see small stacks of paper at the ends of the tables when arriving for dinner. At first there hadn’t been much of a reaction, Paige had simply noted them and just as quickly dismissed them from her mind.

She’d been thinking about other, happier, fun thoughts. Like when Patricia had practically dragged her off after they got promoted. She’d gone along with it, too confused at the time to really put up much resistance. She’d finally had enough and demanded to know what had happened.

What Patricia had said was one of the funniest things Paige had ever heard. The Commander had apparently gone to the training area and chatted with her, all without telling who he was, and Patricia had proceeded to beat the crap out of him. She’d burst out laughing when she heard that part. Even funnier than that was that Patricia was completely mortified by the whole ordeal, a word Paige would _never_ have used to describe her.

As funny as it was for her, Patricia had been seriously stressed out over the whole thing. One disadvantage of her mind working so fast was that she came up with a _lot_ of worst-case scenarios and made serious leaps in logic with little backing. Through held-back laughs, she managed to calm her down and assure her that, no, the Commander was not going to discharge her for beating him up.

That had helped, but Patricia had plans to go to him and apologize for the incident and Paige knew exactly what he was going to say. Maybe he would be able to convince her to not worry so much.

Those thoughts were the reason a smile was on her face as she got her soup and went to sit down. Out of idle curiosity she glanced at the cover and immediately took a double take. She set her bowl down on the table and with a frown on her face, picked up the attached pieces of paper. There were only a few lines on the front page:

* * *

 

MANDATORY READING

OFFICIAL CONTINGENCIES OF THE EXTRATERRESTRIAL COMBAT UNIT

(XCOM)

* * *

 

She went back over and sat down. The rest of the soldiers reacted almost the same way, some with less emotion than others. Many just shrugged, grabbed one, and took a seat.

“Don’t look so glum,” Patricia commented as she sat down to her left. “It doesn’t suit you.” Paige showed her the document. Her only response was a raised eyebrow. “That what’s worrying you?”

Paige chewed her lip. “Not worried, per-se. But _contingencies_ sounds rather foreboding.”

Patricia gave a reassuring grin. “You never read them, did you? That’s fine, I didn’t either. All that worst case stuff never happens. The only reason I would is just to see what stuff they come up with.”

She took the document from Paige. “Mandatory reading, huh. Interesting. It’s smaller than most contingency documents.”

“I do love some dinnertime reading,” Shawn commented as he took a seat beside her. “This should be interesting.”

“Hello to you too, Shawn,” Paige greeted as he started eating. “You read it yet?”

“Nope,” he stated. “But I’m curious.”

More soldiers were filing in and taking seats in the room. The rookie, Abby Gertrude was chatting with the stoic Liam Jaster. Both of them took seats opposite them.

Liam nodded towards them. “Cage, Broker, Trask, good to see you.”

Shawn snorted. “C’mon Liam, is it that hard to use first names?”

“It’s more professional,” was his response.

Abby smiled at them. “Hello all of you.” She glanced at Patricia who was reading the document intently. “Interesting stuff?”

“Quiet.” Patricia muttered.

Liam and Shawn started flipping through their documents. Paige glanced over at Patricia who looked far more serious than a few minutes ago.

She nudged her. “Hey, what is it?”

“I underestimated him,” she muttered and handed the document over to Paige who grasped it and looked at it.

“I’m impressed,” Liam commented. “Very few would go this far.”

Shawn whistled. “Wow.”

“Hmm.” Was all Paige said. She honestly didn’t know what to say.

Abby coughed nervously. “I’m going to assume that this _wasn’t_ approved by the Council. Or any government for that matter.”

“So you’re telling me,” Shawn began in a mocking tone. “That the UN _wouldn’t_ approve the use of nuclear and chemical weapons, assassination of suspected enemy personnel or unrestricted execution of civilians?”

“”Unrestrictive execution of civilians,”” Abby repeated incredulously. “Where is that?”

“Page 3,” Patricia answered grimly. “And I quote, “In the event that the population of an area is A: Unable to be determined as friendly; B: Held hostage by hostile forces; C: Actively working against the interests of XCOM or the Council or D: Suspected of harboring hostile forces, XCOM personnel are authorized to exercise lethal force against any person or persons in the area.“”

Abby looked stunned. “Is that even legal?”

Liam gave a humorless grin. “It is now.”

Paige shook her head. “There is no possible way the Council will approve this.”

“This is _just_ a wild guess,” Shawn commented sarcastically. “But I’m pretty sure he _isn’t_ going to show them.”

“Even if he did,” Liam added. “I doubt he would change anything. He doesn’t strike me as prone to intimidation.”

“But…” Abby shook her head. “Just look at this. This is stuff we could be _ordered_ to do. That’s not concerning you a bit?”

“Remember that contingencies are worst-case scenarios,” Liam reminded her. “I highly doubt we’ll be ordered to execute any civilians any time soon.”

“What’s interesting to me is that he thought all this up for a task force devoted to fighting _aliens_ ,” Shawn commented. “This deals more with the human element.”

Liam shrugged. “It’s good planning. The best commanders know how to prepare for the worst. He apparently can.”

Paige kept reading. “”Notice 4: Chemical Warheads: The enactment of the Zeus Contingency enables the use of chemical warheads. Only the Commander and Central Officer John Bradford have authorization to launch them.”

Shawn cocked his head. “Do we even _have_ chemical warheads?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Abby muttered. “Though it is interesting how devotes an entire section explaining that chemical warheads are ok, but only briefly covers nuclear warheads.”

Paige frowned. “He did?” she went back and checked. Sure enough, nuclear weapons were under the list of possible weapons the Zeus Contingency used. She shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to use nuclear missiles.”

“I agree,” Liam nodded. “There are too many drawbacks for them to be truly effective. They only serve as a weapon of terror.”

Paige looked at Patricia who was absorbed in the document. She nudged her. “Hey, what’s up?” Patricia didn’t even look at her.

“Shut up. I’m thinking.”

There was silence for a few minutes as they read.

“I don’t suppose anyone knows their Greek mythology?” Shawn asked as he looked up.

Paige shrugged. “I know the main ones, Zeus, Artemis, Apollo, Athena.”

“Yeah who doesn’t though?” He put the paper down. “But who the hell is Thanatos?”

 “The god of death.” Liam answered grimly.  

Paige frowned. “Isn’t that Hades?”

“Hades was the god of the _underworld_ ,” Liam corrected. “Thanatos is the god of death.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “Fitting as names go.”

“What about Janus?” Abby asked as she scanned the paper. “From the contingency, I hazard a guess that he was the god of…betrayal.”

Liam snorted, an odd sound coming from him. “Janus is a _Roman_ god, not Greek.”

“Whatever. What was he the god of?”

“Doors, choices, endings.”

“Oh. I guess that makes some sense.”

There was silence at the table again. Patricia suddenly rose. “I need to think,” she muttered to Paige. “See you later.”

Paige nodded and she left.

“That was abrupt,” Shawn noted with a raised eyebrow. “She always like that?”

Paige sighed. “That was one of her better exits, actually.”

Abby nodded. “It really isn’t a bad idea though. I need to sleep and we could be called for the next alien abduction at any time. Besides,” she looked at the sheet. “She’s right. I really do need to think about all this.”

Shawn yawned. “You know, sleep is a good idea.”

It was clear where the consensus was. Each of them said their farewells and went to get some rest before the next abduction.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Mission Control_

“Status report, Bradford!” The Commander demanded as he strode in, hands clasped behind his back.

Bradford saluted. “Yes, Commander! We’ve detected a bogey about three minutes ago, we believe it’s one of the alien ships.”

“A UFO.” The Commander stated.

Bradford nodded. “If you prefer that term, sir. Yes, I recommend we send our pilots to shoot it down.”

The Commander nodded. “Do it.”

Bradford adjusted his headset. “Voodoo Three-Seven you are _cleared_ , I repeat, you are _cleared_ for takeoff.”

The Commander gave a small headshake at that ridiculous call-sign. _Voodoo?_ Who thought _that_ was a good idea? Yet another thing he had to rename.

The pilot’s voice broadcast throughout Mission Control. _“This is Voodoo Three-Seven, I’m in the air and heading to the bogey’s position.”_

“Solid copy,” Bradford confirmed and addressed the analysts. “Display analysis screen.”

The hologlobe vanished and was replaced by a blue screen and the avatar of the fighter jet was on it. In the bottom left-hand corner were stats displaying the machine’s vitals. “We can track it’s position and damage.” Bradford explained. “Not perfect, but better than nothing.”

 _“I have a visual!”_ The pilot shouted. _“Opening fire!_ ” A second ship joined the plane on the blue screen. It was circular and symmetrical but he could tell little else from the crude shape. The alien ship shot something which the pilot luckily dodged. He responded by unleashing a cascade of avalanche missiles into the ship.

The Commander could see it shudder but had no idea if that meant it was damaged or simply an alien tactic. Another volley of missiles hit but the alien ship’s return fire hit the pilot as well.

“Minor damage,” Bradford reported. “Stay on target!”

The pilot released another salvo and pixilated bursts appeared around the UFO.

“You’re almost there,” Bradford encouraged. “Keep it up!”

The UFO shot at the pilot again and scored a direct hit. _“It’s not pretty up here!”_ The pilot warned.

“Keep going.” The Commander muttered and the pilot let loose with another salvo of missiles and with a shudder the UFO dropped off the screen.

The entire room burst into applause and cheers and the Commander joined them by clapping slowly. It was probably the weakest ship in the alien fleet, but it was a beginning and that was good enough for now.

_“Central, this is Voodoo Three-Seven. We have a confirmed kill on Bogey Zero-Zero-One. I repeat, the UFO is down. How copy, over?”_

“Solid copy Voodoo Three-Seven,” Central congratulated. “Nice work. Central, out.” He then addressed the rest of the room. “Alright people. Re-task recon satellite Bravo and get me a visual on that crash site.”

They waited a few seconds. “She’s coming into range now, sir!” one analyst called.

“Onscreen.” Bradford ordered.

The holoscreen showed an area completely obscured by smoke. Bradford leaned on the railing. “Magnify.” The screen zoomed in several times until it rested on a clearly damaged, but very much intact UFO.

“Still in one piece?” Bradford muttered, amazed. The Commander wasn’t surprised. The ship was likely made of the alien alloys or something even stronger. He would have been more surprised if that ship _hadn’t_ crashed in one piece.

“We need to secure the area.” He told Bradford.

Bradford nodded. “Agreed, I’ll inform Fallen Sky to prepare.”

The Commander nodded. “I’ll assemble a squad. And get me a line to the Council.”

Bradford looked surprised. “Will do, sir. But if I may ask, why?”

“Politics,” the Commander stated. “They feel like they’re in the loop and we gain some favor with them. XCOM loses nothing from sharing this information. And besides, we just shot down a UFO. I think that news will reassure quite a few people.”

Bradford nodded. “Understood, Commander. You’ll have a secure line in the situation room.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The screen powered up and the same blue-tinted, poorly lit background greeted him. But there was something different. The shrouded figure before him was not the same one he’d spoken to earlier. This figure was smaller, slimmer and had what appeared to be shoulder-length hair. A woman? His suspicion was confirmed a few seconds later by a synthesized female voice.

_“Greetings, Commander. The Council is pleased that you decided to speak with us.”_

The Commander frowned. “Who are you?”

The figure tilted her head. _“I am the voice of the Council, Commander.”_

“I’m pretty sure I spoke to someone different last time.”

_“This is a Council of Nations, Commander. Not one person. This position rotates to ensure each voice of the Council is heard.”_

Wonderful. Now he had two cryptic people to deal with. But that wasn’t why he wanted this meeting. “I have good news,” he began. “XCOM has just shot down a UFO into Iowa.”

 _“That is excellent news,”_ the figure complemented. _“The Council is pleased that you…shared…this information with us.”_

“This should hopefully quell doubts about my ability to combat the alien threat.”

_“While it may not alleviate…concerns…certain members have about you personally, this is an excellent start between us. A UN team will be sent down to recover the wreck and salvage what remains.”_

The Commander blinked. What?

“Sorry,” he interjected. “But, ah, _when_ did I say that a UN team was going to be deployed.”

_“Is there another reason you would tell us this, if not to provide us with the resources?”_

What leaps in logic was she going through? He was half-tempted to let the team go down and witness them get wiped out by whatever alien force remained and _then_ send a squad down. But all he did was raise an eyebrow.

“I told you this to keep the Council informed. Nothing more or less. If you sent down a UN team, they would be wiped out. Furthermore, any resources collected are the property of XCOM, _not_ the United Nations.”

 _“And what gives you immediate authority over every alien resource?”_ The figure asked, not sounding angry, just curious.

What kind of question was that? “Aside from the fact that I’m commanding the entire operation against the aliens?” the Commander answered incredulously. “Because you wouldn’t know how to use it. We do. And I assure you it will go to much better use that whatever plans you have for it.”

_“Our only plan is the survival of the human race. You oversee one organization and ultimately answer to us. We oversee the world. Do not compare yourself to us.”_

Well then.

Fine. She wanted to waste her time insulting the work he was doing, she was welcome to it.

But he was finished with her.

He gave a wide smile. “Thank you for this illuminating conversation, speaker. Don’t expect to hear from me for a while.” Then he disconnected.

He took a deep breath. The Council was a problem he could eventually solve. The alien threat, not so easy. Best to get back to doing something that mattered. He grabbed a tablet and began putting together a squad to storm the UFO and send a message that the aliens and the Council wouldn’t soon forget.

* * *

 

Supplementary Material

The Thanatos Contingency

In the event that the population of an area is:

  1. Unable to be determined as friendly.
  2. Held hostage by a hostile force.
  3. Actively working against the interests of XCOM or the Council.
  4. Suspected of harboring hostile forces



XCOM personnel are authorized to exercise lethal force against any person or persons in the area. This includes, but is not limited to:

  1. Alien military forces
  2. Alien infiltrators
  3. Military forces including, but not limited to:
  4. The United States Armed Forces
  5. The Russian Armed Forces
  6. The People’s Liberation Army
  7. The British Armed Forces
  8. NATO
  9. Local law enforcement and rescue personnel.
  10. Government officials
  11. Foreign dignitaries
  12. General civilian population



XCOM MILITARY FORCES: Please note that the authorization to exercise lethal force does _not_ mean that is the first solution. Alien forces are to be shot on sight. That is not true for the human population at large. Also note that the following statements assume the activation of the Thanatos Contingency.

  1. In the event that XCOM forces encounter a different military force and cannot determine their allegiance:
  2. The Squad Overseer must open negotiations with the opposing commanding officer.
  3. If negotiations succeed, XCOM is authorized to assist the opposing military.
  4. If negotiations fail, XCOM forces are authorized to eliminate any force opposing their objective.
  5. If negotiation nether succeed nor fail, XCOM forces are ordered to proceed with the current objective. If the opposing military intervenes, XCOM forces are authorized to eliminate them
  6. In the event that XCOM forces encounter local law enforcement and rescue personnel: 
    1. The Squad Overseer must open negotiations with opposing law enforcement forces and deliver a warning not to interfere.
    2. If law enforcement cooperates, proceed with the current objective.
    3. If law enforcement refuses to cooperate, XCOM forces are authorized to eliminate them.
    4. Rescue personnel encountered are to be told to evacuate the area.
    5. If they leave to find shelter, do not interfere.
    6. If they do not cooperate, XCOM forces are ordered to incapacitate them as quickly as possible to lower possible civilian casualties.
    7. If rescue personnel attempt to attack or wound XCOM forces, XCOM forces are authorized to execute them.
    8. In the event that XCOM forces encounter government officials or foreign dignitaries:
    9. XCOM forces must deliver one warning to the officials or dignitaries to leave and not interfere.
    10. If they cooperate, proceed with the current objective.
    11. If they resist or refuse to cooperate, XCOM forces are ordered to incapacitate them.
    12. If they become openly hostile, XCOM forces are authorized to execute them.
    13. The Squad Overseer is authorized to incapacitate or detain any government official or foreign dignitary acting in a suspicious manner. If the suspected individual attempts to flee or attack, XCOM forces are authorized to execute the individual or bring them in for interrogation.
    14. In the event that XCOM forces encounter civilians:
    15. XCOM forces must deliver one warning to the civilians in question to leave and not interfere.
    16. If they cooperate, proceed with the current objective.
    17. If they resist or refuse to cooperate, XCOM forces are ordered to incapacitate them.
    18. If they become openly hostile, XCOM forces are authorized to execute them.
    19. The Squad Overseer is authorized to incapacitate or detain any civilian acting in a suspicious manner. If the suspected individual attempts to flee or attack, XCOM forces are authorized to execute the individual or bring them in for interrogation.



Notice 1: HOSTAGE SITUATION 1: In the event that hostages are held by a hostile alien force:

  1. Do not attempt negotiations. Due to the limited knowledge XCOM has on the aliens and their telepathic abilities, attempted communication is forbidden due to the possibility of mind alteration or control.
  2. Civilians are not a priority. Because of previous alien incursions during which humans were abducted en masse and due to the aliens having access to advanced technology, XCOM cannot guarantee that the hostages have not been modified or experimented upon in any way and cannot risk XCOM forces falling to trapped hostages. Possible risks of hostage rescue from alien forces is as follows: 
    1. The hostage is a host for an alien contagion
    2. The hostage has technology implanted for reconnaissance or suicide bombing that XCOM is unable to detect.
    3. The hostage’s mind has been modified by alien telepaths and may become hostile once inside an XCOM “safe zone.”
    4. The hostage is a willing participant and may turn on XCOM despite showing no signs of modification or tampering
  3. In the event that the hostages of a hostile alien force are still alive afterwards, they are to be treated in the same way as hostile civilians and are to be incapacitated as soon as possible, restrained, and brought to the Citadel for screening and interrogation. Captured hostages are to be kept unconscious and secured at all times.
  4. If former hostages show any sign of aggression or hostility, XCOM forces are ordered to execute them immediately.



Notice 2: HOSTAGE SITUATION 2: In the event that hostages are held by a hostile human force:

  1. The Squad Overseer must open negotiations with the hostile force commander. The negotiator may attempt to negotiate for the lives of the hostages, but is not authorized to agree to any demands without the approval of the Commander. 
    1. If the Commander is unavailable, Central Officer John Bradford will be the one to give approval.
    2. If the Commander and Central Officer John Bradford are unavailable, the Head of XCOM Research and Development, Dr. Moira Vahlen will be the one to give approval.
    3. If the Commander, John Bradford and Moira Vahlen are unavailable, the Head of XCOM Engineering, Dr. Raymond Shen will be the one to give approval.
    4. If no member of the Internal Council is able to be reached, the Squad Overseer is to break off negotiations and proceed to Notice 2: Step 3.
  2. If the hostage situation is resolved peacefully, XCOM forces are to immediately extract the hostages and ensure their safety. Once the hostages are secure, XCOM forces have authorization to execute the hostile human force. 
    1. Note: This decision is left to the discretion of the Squad Overseer.
    2. Note 2: The Commander has the authority to override the Squad Overseer’s decision.
  3. If the hostage situation is not, or is unable to be resolved peacefully, XCOM forces are to eliminate the hostile human force by any means necessary. Hostages are not a priority. Once the enemy force has been destroyed, any surviving hostages are to be secured and returned to the Citadel for debriefing.
  4. If any rescued hostages show any sign of aggression or hostility, XCOM forces are ordered to incapacitate the former hostage and return them to the Citadel for interrogation.



Notice 3: XCOM RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT: Members of the XCOM Research and Development team are not authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency under any circumstances. All requests will be ignored and dismissed.

Exception 1: In the event that the Commander and Central Officer John Bradford are unavailable, incapacitated or dead, Dr. Moira Vahlen is authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency.

Notice 4: XCOM ENGINEERING: Members of the XCOM Research and Development team are not authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency under any circumstances. All requests will be ignored and dismissed.

Exception 1: In the event that the Commander, Central Officer John Bradford and Dr. Moira Vahlen are unavailable, incapacitated or dead, Dr. Raymond Shen is authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency.

Notice 5: XCOM ANALYSIS AND COMMUNICATION: Members of the XCOM Analysis and Communication team are not authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency. All requests must be made to Central Officer John Bradford who will pass the request to the Commander.

Exception 1: In the event that the Commander is unavailable, incapacitated or dead, Central Officer John Bradford is authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency.

Notice 6: XCOM MILITARY FORCES: Soldiers in the XCOM Military Forces are not authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency. Requests must be made to the Squad Overseer who will pass them to Citadel Command.

Exception 1: Squad Overseers are authorized to enact the Thanatos Contingency with approval from Citadel Command.

  1. If the Squad Overseer is incapacitated or dead, the soldier of the next highest seniority will have authorization to enact the Thanatos Contingency with approval from Citadel Command.
  2. If the Squad Overseer is incapacitated or dead, and there are two or more soldiers of the same seniority, the soldier with most completed missions will have authorization to enact the Thanatos Contingency with approval from Citadel Command.



Notice 7: RESERVATION 1: Please note that this contingency may be updated in the future to adapt to the evolving alien threat and political climate.

Notice 8: RESERVATION 2: The Commander has the authorization to enact the Thanatos Contingency when none of the factors have been met and has the approval of 75% of the Internal Council. (SUB-SECTION RESTRICTED TO INTERNAL COUNCIL)

Notice 9: HOSTAGE SITUATION RETALIATION: In the event that a hostile human force takes hostages and impedes the current goals and objectives of XCOM, certain levels of retaliation will occur depending on the following factors:

  1. If the hostile force is identified to be the military of a non-Council member, XCOM will enact the Zeus Contingency on the nation’s capital.
  2. If the hostile force is not affiliated with any country, XCOM will ensure that no surviving member of the group remains alive.
  3. If the hostile force is identified to be the military of a Council Member, the Hades Contingency will immediately go into effect.



(SUB-SECTION RESTRICTED TO INTERNAL COUNCIL)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	10. UFO Assault: Scout

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

Paige awoke to someone shaking her arm.

“Get up. We’re being deployed!”

She groaned and blinked sleepily at a tense Patricia. “Another abduction?” She asked sleepily. Nothing else came to mind.

Patricia lips curled into a grin. “They shot down a UFO.”

That wiped away her exhaustion. Paige leapt out of bed and started gearing up. “When did this happen?” She demanded as she fastened her armor.

“Half-hour ago,” Patricia responded curtly as she put on her own gauntlets. “The Commander wants us to secure the area before they escape or destroy whatever’s on that ship.”

“Who else is coming?”

“Sims, Liam, Rico and Cortez.”

Paige yawned and frowned as she tried putting faces to names. “Rico’s the Argentinian AFOE, right?

Patricia shot her a look as she sealed her suit. “How could you possibly remember that? You met him for like, five minutes.”

Paige pulled her gauntlets over her hands. “He was missing the last two fingers on his left hand.”

Patricia’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Oh, huh. I suppose that’d do it.”

She reached in her locker and pulled out her new weapon: the SAW. It was a deadly looking machine gun that was nearly half her height. She’d been given access to the weapon after being promoted, a perk of being a Gunner. Personally, Paige was happy with her admittedly mundane specialty of Engineer. She’d tried lifting the massive weapon and knew that she’d be worn out after carrying that thing for thirty minutes, much less hours.

“Where are the others?” She asked as she strapped _her_ new weapons to her belt. Flash-bangs, smoke and frag grenades were the weapons she was using now in addition to her assault rifle. She’d eyed the SMG that had just been developed, but wanted something with a decent amount of power so she’d stuck with a basic rifle.

“Getting ready,” Patricia answered as she slung the SAW over her back and grabbed her helmet. “Everyone should be in the hangar in five.”

Paige snapped on her helmet with a hiss and waited a few seconds as her HUD booted up. “You in charge?”

“Yes. The Commander designated me Squad Overseer.”

Fully geared up, Paige turned to the imposing armored Gunner. “Ready to go, Overseer.”

The helmeted Patricia nodded. “Follow me.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Hangar_

Nearly all of the squad was there. By Paige’s count the only ones missing were Rico and Jaster. Cortez saw them come in and strode over.

“Overseer,” he greeted. “Do we know anything about the crashed UFO?”

“That will be discussed on the skyranger,” Patricia informed him. “Which should hopefully not be too much longer.”

Right on cue the doors hissed open and Liam, Rico and another man in a jumpsuit walked in. Paige blinked at the sight of Liam. He was a naturally tall man but his grey new armor made him look downright imposing which was only enhanced by the massive battle rifle he wielded.

In contrast, Rico was wearing the standard tan XCOM armor and handing an SMG with some grenades strapped to his belt. She figured he used an SMG because it was easier to fire, especially given his injuries.

She assumed that the jump suited man was their pilot. That reminded her that she’d never really spoken with the pilots yet, even though they arguably had one of the most important jobs. She’d have to do that, at least to thank them.

The pilot’s aviation helm was tucked under his arm and he effectively ignored them as he walked right past.

“We have a limited timeframe,” he shouted as he walked past. “The Commander wants us on the ground as soon as possible!”

Patricia gestured toward the skyranger. “You heard the man! Load up!”

“Yes, Overseer!” They shouted and boarded the skyranger.

* * *

 

None of them bothered strapping in. Paige didn’t know what the rest were feeling, but she couldn’t be restrained right now. No, she actually felt…well, _excited_. They’d actually _shot down_ one of the alien ships. This could be the beginning of the end of the invasion. As unprofessional as it was, she was feeling ready to march down and eradicate the aliens.

The skyranger shuddered and a low whine became audible as they took off. Her fists were clenched and a cool determination settled over her. This was the time XCOM struck back.

Patricia wasted no time once they were in the air. She stood and addressed them. “The crash site isn’t far from the Citadel so I’ll make this short. I’ve spoken and worked with some, but not all of you. I need to have some idea of your capabilities before deploying. In the interest of time, state your name and previous military affiliation,” She nodded at Paige. “You first.”

“Specialist Paige Broker, Thirty-Second Signal Regiment.” It was surprisingly satisfying adding a rank to her name, something she hadn’t experienced in a while.

To her left, Ernest Sims went next. “Ernest Sims, Irish Infantry Brigade Three.”

Rico went next. “Josue Rico, Argentina AFOE. Special Forces.”

Liam went next. “Specialist Liam Jaster, Russian Alpha Group.”

All eyes were on Kim as he finished. “Kim Cortez, Brazilian Navy.”

Patricia nodded. “Thank you. Patricia Trask, Royal Marines. Now that introductions are over, time for why we’re here.”

The skyranger shuddered and Patricia grabbed onto one of the handles. “Just over a half-hour ago, XCOM Analysis and Communications identified an alien ship in our airspace. They deployed a plane to intercept it and shot it down. The ship isn’t large, best estimates put it around twenty meters in diameter, it’s circular and made out of an unidentified metal.”

“Just like an actual UFO.” Cortez commented.

“So it would seem,” Patricia agreed. “But we have no idea what to encounter. These alien ships could have one pilot or ten. They know we’re coming so expect a fight.”

“Looking forward to it,” Rico declared as he clenched his fist. “Time to put the aliens on the defensive now.”

“Don’t get overconfident,” Patricia warned harshly. “That’ll get you killed as quickly as any alien weapon. These ships could be programed to self-destruct upon crashing for all we know. Under no circumstances are you to take _any_ reckless or unauthorized actions. _Is that clear?_ ”

“Yes, Overseer!” They shouted.

The burst of static interrupted them. _“This is Fallen Sky to Patriot Team. We’re about ten minutes from the crash site. There’s not going to be space to land so you’ll be deploying via ropes. I’m patching the Commander in now.”_

Patricia sat down as they waited for the Commander to speak.

_“This is the Commander. Patricia’s already briefed you so I won’t repeat what she said. The objectives are simple: Eliminate every alien on that ship and secure whatever artifacts you find. You are not authorized to hand anything over to anyone other than XCOM Artifact Recovery.”_

Paige frowned. That was rather specific. She didn’t see a reason he’d have mentioned it if there wasn’t a possibly of that happening.

Patricia evidently felt the same. “Is there a third party entering the scene?”

_“Unlikely, but I’m taking no chances.”_

“Who should be look out for if it does happen?”

_“Not exactly sure, but they’d probably be affiliated with the United Nations.”_

The soldiers exchanged looks. This was bizarre. Why would the UN be at odds with what they were doing? Weren’t they allies in this mess?

“Copy that, Commander,” Patricia continued. “Only XCOM will recover what’s in the alien ship.”

_“Excellent. Avoid damage to the ship if possible, this could jumpstart our ability to reverse-engineer their technology. I want no crazy risks or heroics. We have the aliens on the defensive this time and will not waste it. Today we send a message to them and I want it made as clear as possible. Eradicate them. Citadel Command out.”_

Fallen Sky’s voice immediately followed. _“Deployment in five, Squad Overseer. Ready your team.”_

“Copy, Fallen Sky,” Patricia curtly replied and stood. “Lock down vocoders!”

Each of them complied. Patricia was probably anticipating contact almost immediately after touchdown if she was locking them down now. Probably smart, but somewhat premature. The shaking in the skyranger quickly got worse.

“Prepare for deployment!” Patricia ordered and each of them stood. Paige pulled out her pistol. There was no way she could handle her rifle while grappling down a rope. Most of the team evidently felt the same way, except Liam who gripped his battle rifle with a restrained intensity. Even Patricia wasn’t going to risk fielding her SAW while descending.

_“Fallen Sky to Patriot Team. Ten seconds before the ramp opens.”_

“Copy.” Patricia answered and sure enough the ramp opened up. Ropes immediately fell from crevices in the back of the plane.

“Deploy!” she ordered, and charged out of the plane, grabbed a rope and began sliding to the ground. Paige swallowed. She’d only performed this type of deployment twice, both times in training exercises. She took a deep breath and charged after her.

She hooked her leg around the rope and grasped it firmly and dropped. She didn’t look at the ground but was alarmed at how long it was taking to hit the bottom. With a quiet _thud_ she hit the ground and moved to join Patricia. The rest of the squad deployed without incident. Once they were together, the ropes retracted into the skyranger which then departed.

_“This is Fallen Sky to Citadel Command. Patriot Team is deployed, initiating Eagle Protocol.”_

_“Copy that, Fallen Sky. Patriot Team, status?”_

“We’re on the ground and ready to proceed on your order.” Patricia informed the Commander.

_“Permission granted, you are authorized to assault the alien craft.”_

“What’s Eagle Protocol?” Cortez asked as he grabbed his rifle.

“Skyrangers are equipped with two griffin missiles,” Patricia answered as she scanned the forest. “If things go south I can call order an airstrike from the skyranger.”

Ah. Now she remembered. Though from the designs she recalled, the missiles wouldn’t be much help since there were only the most basic missile guidance systems installed on the skyranger. There was a very good chance that the skyranger would miss and kill them instead. Not really a good idea to use them. However, she didn’t think the squad needed to know that little detail.

She reached for her rifle and looked around. This forest was very dense, though the tree trunks weren’t that large. She could probably take cover behind them if needed, though Liam would have more trouble if they were attacked here.

“Advance,” Patricia ordered. _“Slowly.”_

They moved cautiously through the woods. Paige was thankful for the cover of darkness, though she fought the urge to flinch every time a branch snapped underneath a boot. Patricia raised a fist and they froze and raised their weapons.

“Quiet!” she hissed. “Listen.”

Paige concentrated and it took around a half-minute before she heard, or more accurately, _felt_ it. A low, pulsing hum that permeated through the area every five seconds. She adjusted her helmets audio receptors to amplify the noise, she looked around… _there_. She was sure, the pulse was coming from _that_ direction.

She pointed in the direction of the pulse. “Got something, this way.”

“Are you sure?” Patricia demanded.

“Positive. Broadcasting helmet input.”

“How did you do that?” Rico asked once she had sent her audio input to the squad.

“I amplified the helmet’s audio receptors.”

“Huh,” Rico said. “Didn’t know it could do that.”

“It can’t,” Paige answered. “I added it.”

“We have a location,” Patricia stated, striding ahead of the squad. “Move out!”

Paige kept the sound on to ensure they were still heading in the right direction. But she was growing more and more unnerved by the unnatural pulsing. It was one of those sounds that burrowed it’s way into the brain and wouldn’t leave. Something flashed up ahead and she immediately crouched down and within seconds the squad followed her example.

“What is it?” Patricia demanded.

“Something flashed ahead,” she pointed deeper into the forest. “In there.”

“Advance with caution,” Patricia warned and they advanced, crouching and making as little noise as possible.

They came to the edge of a clearing where the ship had crashed. Broken stumps and burning braches littered the area and they finally saw the UFO.

“Here we go.” Liam muttered as he gripped his battle rifle.

The ship shone with an unnatural silver, probably reflection but it gave the illusion of illumination. It was circular, but not quite a perfect circle. There were four “corners” that were open and a shimmering rainbow…barrier…went over it and attached to the edge of the ship, completing the circle. There was what looked like an entrance also shrouded by the multicolored barrier.

But then she noticed the most obvious issue. Aliens were scuttling around the area. Those drones were also hovering around the UFO, presumably repairing it and directed by the aliens.

She did a count. Four of the gray aliens and six drones. Manageable.

“Get into cover and take aim,” Patricia ordered and most of them took cover behind trees, while Luke crouched in a low trench and they raised their rifles.

“How good are the shots?” She asked quietly.

“Not good,” Liam answered grimly. “Can’t get anything higher than sixty percent.”

“Copy that,” Rico agreed. “We’re too far away.”

Paige looked down her rifle and her HUD displayed sixty-six percent. Not good enough.

“Move forward,” Patricia ordered. “Priority targets are the greys. The drones shouldn’t pose much of a threat.”

Paige rolled a flash bang in her hand. “Give the word and I’ll blind them.”

“Will do.”

They crept up and were admittedly in poor cover, but excellent position. Paige hung back, since she would be focusing on the grenade. She spotted a place to dash to after throwing it, and just knelt as she waited for the command.

“Shot lined up on the leftmost alien,” Liam informed.

“Got sights on the middle one,” Rico confirmed.

“Right one is mine,” Cortez stated.

“And I’ve got the leader,” Sims finished.

“Paige, get ready to throw,” Patricia warned.

Paige gripped the grenade.

“Now!”

She tossed the deceptively small device which landed in the middle of the three aliens. With a loud bang it went off and the creatures shrieked, grabbed their eyes and some dashed off.

Patricia stood and swung her SAW in the direction of the disoriented aliens. “Open fire!”

The aliens never stood a chance. Blind and deaf, they dashed right into the well-coordinated fire of the squad. The sight of bullet-ridden aliens falling to the ground was beautiful to behold.

Until Sims ruined it.

“Missed the target!” he shouted, sounding more annoyed than worried.

Patricia had been focusing her fire on the flying drones, the heavy pounding of automatic fire drowning out the rest of the noise, attempted to turn her weapon on the alien but was too late and it dashed into cover.

Paige rushed to her own cover and started taking aim, then stopped when she had a better idea. “Popping smoke!” She yelled and threw the canister into the middle of the group. She didn’t know how the engineers had designed it so the smoke wouldn’t obstruct their view, but she was eternally grateful for it. A little green upwards arrow in her HUD indicated she was obstructed by the smoke. She smiled and raised her weapon.

The drones were converging. Red laser fire rained down around them and XCOM responded in kind. The deceptively durable drones were taking a severe amount of damage and still firing.

Patricia pointed at the hunkering alien. “Sims! Suppressive fire on the grey! We need to clear the drones out!”

“Yes sir!” and he began firing concentrated bursts in the alien’s direction.

She heard a grunt and sizzle as one of the lasers struck Liam. “I’m alright,” he informed them. “The armor took it.” He proceeded to blast the offending drone out of the sky.

“Paige! Can you toss a grenade up there?” Patricia demanded as she temporarily ceased firing to reload.

Paige looked at the four remaining drones that were doing their best to dodge the fire and return it. She pulled out a frag grenade and mentally judged the distance. “I can try,” she responded. “The timing will have to be perfect.”

Patricia nodded at her. “Do it!”

“Frag out!” She dropped the pin, waited two seconds and tossed the grenade into the cluster of drones. Her heart dropped as it started to curve downward, but then exploded brilliantly, taking two drones with it.

Cortez whooped. “Nice throw, Paige!”

“Thanks!” She shouted as she took more shots at the remaining drones.

“Gonna need to reload soon!” Sims yelled as he kept suppressing the alien.

“Hold out a little longer!” Patricia responded as another drone fell from the sky. “We’re almost done!”

Paige looked at where the alien was cowering and spotted something. A faint purple aura was emanating around where the alien was. She sucked in her breath. “Patricia! The alien’s using telepathy!”

Patricia swung her weapon around but was too late. Sims had finally run out of ammo and was reloading. The alien immediately took advantage and directed the nearly invisible strand of purple energy towards him. All of Patricia’s bullets missed and the alien hunkered back down.

“They’re everywhere!” Sims started shrieking, “Evac! We need emergency evac _now_ , dammit, _now!”_

“Calm down, Private!” Patricia yelled in an attempt to regain control as the final drone dropped from the sky. “You’re going to be fine!”

“No time!” he yelled. “I’m leaving now!” Hyperventilating, he started dashing to his right away from the UFO. That was all the alien needed. Paige watched helplessly as the alien rose and shot green bolts which struck him in the back with such force that they slammed him into the dirt.

“Soldier down!” Patricia shouted. “Dammit! Cortez, toss your grenade and end that alien!”

“With pleasure,” Cortez hissed. “This is for Sims!” Which was followed by an explosion and alien shriek.

Then there was silence.

“Reload,” Patricia muttered. “There may be more.” The squad complied.

Despite the battle being over, Paige’s heart still pounded. She’d seen some horrible things in her life but nothing was quite as terrifying as this alien telepathy. It wasn’t even so much the act as it was that it seemed to be impossible to stop. It was scary to realize that she could lose control simply because an alien willed it.

“I think we’re clear,” Patricia declared, standing up. “We need to secure the UFO. Then we’ll recover Private Sims’ body.”

“Yes, Overseer.” They responded.

Patricia nodded. “Forward,” she ordered in a subdued tone.

They took positions at the “entrance” of the ship. Patricia and Liam took point and Liam cautiously touched the shimmering barrier. Like a popped bubble, the barrier retracted with an electronic crackle.

The ship was empty. It was surprisingly open with only the middle portion of the ship which extended to the back was elevated. That middle portion was surrounded by what she assumed were piloting consoles and computers. Several more were at each corner of the ship, though most were charred and warped beyond repair. At the back was cylinder object pulsing green light similar to the abduction pods. A power system of some kind?

“Looks empty.” Rico muttered.

“Stay alert.” Patricia insisted and they spread throughout the small area. Paige walked up to the control center and spotted something else interesting in the back. Four more rectangular pods were behind the power system but these were different. The tops of them were rotating slowly and she caught a glimpse of a yellow glow beneath it.

“Patricia!” she called. “Look at this!”

Patricia walked up. “Interesting,” she muttered, then turned to the other soldiers looking around the ship. “Rico! Cortez! Get up here. Paige, see if you can make sense of the computers.”

“On it,” she nodded and turned back to the unearthly devices. She crossed her arms as she observed the controls. Where could she possibly start? She shrugged. Well, might as well try the green one. She reached down to press it when she heard a mechanical hiss. She looked down and frowned. Two compartments had opened beneath the console and ejected something that appeared to be held upright by a force field. An alien rifle was also ejected beside each canister.

She looked at the strange orange crystals and knelt down. What was this? She stood back up looked to call Patricia when the crystals started changing. It started spreading, like a piece of paper unfolding continuously. The crystal formed legs and arms until she was facing a glowing orange… _thing_.

“Contact!” She screamed. The thing had only the faintest impression of a mouth and had no eyes she could see. It’s entire body seemed to be made out a crystalline structure. She immediately raised her weapon but was roughly grabbed by the second transformed crystal that had been behind her.

She struggled but the creature had an iron grip. The other alien grabbed the alien rifle and blasted her in the chest. She gasped as the green bolt burned through her, a white-hot agony that seemed unreal. She felt it continuing to erode her body and organs like acid. Already beginning to lose consciousness, the last thing she saw was the emotionless alien aiming the weapon at her face and pulling the trigger.

Then everything went black.

* * *

 

“Contact!”

Liam Jaster spun around at the sound of Paige’s startled voice and barely comprehended what he saw. Two humanoid crystalline…aliens…had surrounded her and one had already grabbed her.

Where the hell had _they_ come from?

“Patricia!” He yelled. “Contact!” He took some shots at the closest alien but he knew he would be too late. The alien shot Paige twice, once in the chest, once in the head.

“Paige!” Patricia screamed as the alien dropped Paige’s lifeless body to the ground and immediately started taking aim at the rest of them. Liam slid into cover and started firing at the glowing aliens. His efforts forced them to take cover behind the control console, right in Patricia’s line of fire.

The heavy pulsing fire of the SAW tore into the alien who jumped off the center platform to escape. Liam saw cracks in…he didn’t know if that was armor or skin. But he took shots at it and managed to hit it in the back. It collapsed to the ground and Liam walked over to it to deliver execution at point black range.

He looked at the fallen alien that was struggling to rise. Something was happening, sparks were jumping around it’s body and with eerily little noise, the thing jumped up. With no trace of the injuries it had suffered.

It dawned on him that he’d made a deadly mistake. “They regenerate!” he yelled as he opened fire. The alien dashed at him and grabbed his throat then lifted him without any effort. He drew his pistol and shot the alien in the face twice. Cracks appeared where it’s eyes should be and it flung him across the ship.

He grunted as he hit the floor and scrambled away as the alien started shooting at him. He dashed to some cover by the entrance and laid down some suppression fire. So close combat was out of the question. Good to know. He saw that the cracks he’d created on the alien’s face had disappeared. What _were_ these things?

He looked at his HUD. He had one grenade. Peeking around the corner, he saw the alien in rather poor cover. It took a shot that nearly blasted his face off. Ok, he could handle this. He just had one shot. He pulled the pin and tossed the grenade at the alien.

He heard a strange electric shriek and saw the alien stumble back, multiple cracks in it’s skin. “Die.” He hissed and opened fire with his battle rifle. He didn’t let up once and the cracks started spreading throughout it’s body. With one final rifle burst the alien started disintegrating and fracturing. With a burst of light, the alien vanished, leaving no trace.

He realized he was breathing hard. He hadn’t come _that_ close to death since…well…a long time. His head snapped up as he realized that there was still another one of those aliens. He dashed up to the control center and skidded to a stop.

There was no sign of the alien. Patricia and the others must have killed it. Rico and Cortez were standing by the power source and it soon became apparent why.

Patricia was kneeling by the mutilated body of the woman who had been her only friend. He slowly lowered his rifle. Patricia wasn’t making a sound, just staring silently at her body. Liam wanted to nothing more than to leave her alone.

But he wasn’t the Squad Overseer. She was. And she still had to complete the mission.

He walked up slowly behind her and placed a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Overseer,” he said softly. “I think that’s it. We need to call it in.”

“Yes,” she whispered tonelessly and stood up. “Fallen Sky, this is Squad Overseer Trask. We need extraction. Send in Artifact Recovery.”

Fallen Sky’s voice was subdued. _“Yes, Overseer. On my way.”_

Patricia knelt down and picked up the body of Paige Broker in her arms. Without a word she left the ship and each of them followed, keeping their distance. She just stood outside with the body in her arms, waiting for the skyranger to arrive. Cortez went to collect the body of Ernest Sims while they waited.

Liam was concerned. Loss was no stranger to him, and maybe not even to her. But it was one thing to lose someone under your command and another to lose someone you cared about. Both had happened to him and he knew how to deal with it. But her? Based on what he was seeing now, he doubted it.

Even if he hadn’t known Paige that well, she had seemed a fine woman. She had made at least some effort to talk to all the different people and he’d appreciated that. The others, even more so. Her death was going to hit harder than the others simply because she had known more people.

His grip tightened on his weapon and he shot a look of loathing at the alien corpses.

The war had suddenly become more personal for all of them.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Opening Hymn

_Personnel:_

Patriot 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Specialist Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 4

Patriot 2 – Specialist Liam Jaster

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 3

Patriot 3 – Specialist Paige Broker

            **Status:** Deceased

            **Recorded Kills:** 2

Patriot 4 – Private Kim Cortez

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 1

Patriot 5 – Private Ernest Sims

            **Status:** Deceased

            **Recorded Kills:** 0

Patriot 6 – Private Josue Rico

            **Status:** Active

            **Recorded Kills:** 2

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Tristan Ward – Call sign: “Fallen Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-3x Alien Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-1x Alien Corpse (Unsalvageable)

-4x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-2x Drone Wrecks (Unsalvageable)

-2x Alien Flight Computers (Damaged)

-1x Alien Flight Computer

-1x Alien Power Source

-30x Alien Weapon Fragments

-100x Alien Alloys (Stripped from UFO)

-4x Canisters of Unidentified Alien Substance

 

 

 

 


	11. Council Report: March

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The Commander summoned the Internal Council shortly after Patriot Team was heading back. He wanted to know what that…thing was. As much as he hated acknowledging it, this new alien had surprised him. He’d dealt with many enemies assuming different forms over his career and a being that could materialize out of nowhere and self-regenerate was something he hadn’t seen before.

Well, the good news was that the alien’s wouldn’t be able to surprise them like this again. The only reason that trick had worked was because the squad had let their guard down and the aliens had cleverly exploited that. No one would repeat it again.

Despite losing two soldiers, the mission was far from a failure. There were a _lot_ of components and alloys that had been stripped from the UFO, along with additional artifacts. Chief of those were the pods filled with yellow substance. As far as Vahlen could tell, it wasn’t dangerous but in her words “It is unlike anything I have ever seen.” How incredibly descriptive. He’d quipped something sarcastic at her which went completely over her head. Still, he took her word for it. She wouldn’t have lets the pods pass if she thought they were dangerous.

The alien’s telepathic powers was something that needed to be addressed soon. But aside from ordering the soldiers to prioritize the grey aliens, he didn’t know of a way to counter it. Vahlen was still running some tests to find a link showing the soldier’s ability to resist or fail. But until there was a breakthrough, there was little he could actually do.

One of the doors to the Situation Room slid open and Bradford walked through.

“Commander,” he greeted. “I assume this is about the new alien?”

“Yes,” The Commander motioned him over and they looked at a still image captured from Paige’s armor-cam just before she was executed. “Was your team monitoring the area? Did they pick up anything?”

Bradford nodded. “They were and did. But we just recorded what was happening, I sent over what we had to Vahlen and Shen for analysis.”

The Commander inclined his head towards the image. “What do you make of that?”

Bradford frowned. “If I had to guess, it seems like these aliens act as something of a security system. Perhaps they were triggered when Paige went to look at the flight computers. However,” he looked down and rested his chin in his hand. “That begs the question of why these aliens didn’t activate when the fight outside was going on. Not to mention these aliens are arguably more powerful than anything we’ve encountered before, and if so, why aren’t they using them against us?”

“Based on this attack, I agree that the closest resemblance is a security system,” the Commander nodded. “But one explanation for why it wasn’t activated during the fighting is because the aliens didn’t expect an attack.”

Bradford turned to him. “Why wouldn’t they? We’ve clearly shown we’ll go to great lengths to acquire their technology. Not expecting us to go after a crashed ship is…well, foolish.”

“Perhaps they’re out of practice,” the Commander shrugged. “I imagine the invasion of a world isn’t something they do every day. Basic tactical thinking will come to them in time.”

“Ha,” Bradford muttered sarcastically. “Let’s hope not. But that still doesn’t explain why the aliens aren’t using their best against us.”

And _that_ observation was something that had been bothering the Commander for the past few days. The aliens were clearly well beyond them in terms of technology, yet instead of deploying their best, they only sent what he assumed to be basic infantry. The grey aliens _were_ dangerous, no doubt about that, but despite their dangerous telepathic abilities and weaponry, they really weren’t that durable or intelligent.

If they were, then they’d realize that using their telepathy was far more dangerous than their weapons and drones. Unless of course they had been specifically ordered to refrain from using them. Following that logic, it begged the question: why?

It didn’t add up. Why abduct humans at random locations when they could likely just invade using pure force? Did they fear an invasion would unite humanity? Possible, but even if by some miracle everyone put aside their differences and fought together, it was still a ludicrously easy victory.

A very helpful way of confirming this was a mental exercise where he imagined _he_ was in charge of the alien forces. Based on just what he knew, he had the grey aliens, the crystalline aliens and infiltrators. There were probably more he didn’t know about. Regardless, it was a simple matter of using the infiltrators to cause major disruptions across the world. Assassinations, riots, there were dozens of possibilities and instead of looking for another possible answer, the human governments would blame each other.

Move to phase two, which used the grey aliens. Using the infiltrators, the greys could be placed strategically throughout the world, using their telepathic powers to cause a string of unexplained mental breakdowns, panic attacks and suicides. Law enforcement would be the place to start. He could just imagine stories of cops suffering hallucinations and going into public places and murdering civilians or fellow officers. The public uproar would be crippling. And if was spread through multiple states and countries? Catastrophic.

Following that, high-level officials would be next. Presidents, prime ministers, the heads of state of all the major countries would be the next to go insane. Without leadership, the countries would fight among themselves to replace them and every political faction would see an opportunity to seize power.

He wished humanity wasn’t so predictable.

At this point, he imagined the world would be on the cusp of utter chaos. It wouldn’t take much to essentially start World War III. Which moved into his plan into the third phase. The removal of military power. Using the crystalline aliens, the greys, and infiltrators, he’d target the most visible military base and wipe everyone out. Either China, Russia or the United States would work equally well. Whatever forces stationed there wouldn’t be able to withstand more than twenty of the crystalline aliens, much less everyone else. From there it was a simple matter of planting the right evidence or better yet, leaving one or two soldiers alive and using the grey’s telepathy to cause the soldier to hallucinate that they were attacked by a rival country. That would be ideal.

Then he would sit back and watch as the humans wiped themselves out. He had no doubt that it’d be an entertaining fight, though ultimately pointless. Whoever won, they’d soon be wiped out when the final phase went into effect, which essentially meant complete annihilation of the winning country or faction.

He imagined that it wouldn’t be much of a fight. Once the world’s most effective military was destroyed, there was virtually no resistance left as they’d spent so much energy destroying themselves.

There. That was the outline he’d come up with a to invade Earth in the span of roughly one hour. It was flawed and unpolished, but it wasn’t hard to see it working.

So, why were the aliens holding back?

This _had_ to have been brought up when the aliens planned this invasion. Unless they were completely and utterly inept, which he doubted, this should have been what had happened. But it wasn’t and it made no sense.

He supposed that this could be the equivalent of a cat toying with a lizard. Giving it an illusion of hope and freedom before killing it. It was a sadistic tactic, but one he doubted the aliens were employing now. The reason for that was because the most potent tool for the tactic was _terror_. And at the moment, humanity was…uneasy…at best. Thanks to the Council and UN, the alien phenomenon was still just that: a phenomenon. Only a few knew what was actually facing them and most of them were in XCOM.

Which meant that the only reasonable answer was that this was deliberate. But the question still remained, why? The obvious answer was they were developing some kind of bioweapon to use against humanity or some means of mass pacification. It would explain the abductions and _possibly_ the secrecy surrounding all of it. But again, anything like that could be accomplished once humanity was enslaved to the aliens? No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t see any reason for the aliens to not use overwhelming force.

“Commander?”

His head snapped back up at Bradford’s puzzled voice. He shook his head.

“Sorry, just thinking.”

“About what, sir?” Bradford inquired.

“Nothing important, just a theory.”

“Frankly sir, even a theory is better than we have now.”

The Commander frowned, and then remembered what they had been discussing. “No, it’s not about the alien. Something else, I’ll tell you it later.”

“Very well, sir.” Bradford conceded.

The door hissed open behind him and Vahlen and Shen walked in. Shen looked…restrained, in contrast to Vahlen whose look of contained excitement shone in her eyes. The Commander inclined his head.

“Vahlen, Shen. Glad you could come.”

Shen nodded. “Of course, Commander.”

The Commander looked at Vahlen. “Do you have something?”

Vahlen nodded excitedly. “I think so. I went digging into the old files the Council kept during the Outsider Incursion. Most were deleted or destroyed, but I found this.” She placed a picture on the desk that bore some resemblance to the crystalline alien, but there were clear differences such as that the creature was clearly organic.

“What is this?” he inquired.

“I believe it is the reason XCOM was created in the first place,” Vahlen explained. “Several of these creatures, referred to in the files as “Outsiders” were caught apparently investigating Earth.”

The Commander raised a hand. “I’m aware of the Outsider Incursion. But I don’t see what this has to do with the new alien.”

“This is an unarmored specimen,” Vahlen continued, pulling out another picture. “ _This_ is an armored one.”

The picture she placed on the table was _much_ more similar to the crystalline alien. It lacked the crystalline armor and wasn’t orange, but the basic design was virtually identical. Bradford whistled. “Damn.”

“I assume they didn’t start out as orange crystals?” the Commander asked with a raised eyebrow.

Vahlen shook her head. “As far as I can tell, no. But it’s possible that the aliens…improved this particular species.”

“I’d call it a total conversion.” Bradford argued.

“Perhaps it’s simpler,” Shen amended. “The aliens may have simply taken the _design_ of this particular species and applied their technology to it.”

“Probable,” Vahlen agreed. “However they did it, it must have taken an extraordinary amount of time and modification to make it possible.”

The Commander looked at Shen. “Do you have anything to add?”

Shen pulled out a tablet. “Yes. I took the readings from what we were able to gather from our soldiers’ hardsuit sensors. But I’m not sure the result is…accurate.”

“Why?”

Vahlen answered. “The readings showed that the alien was made out of pure energy.”

There was silence for a few seconds. The Commander looked at Vahlen.

“Did those records you found give any hint of the most effective way to kill them?”

“I’m afraid not.”

The Commander pursed his lips. “A shame. We’ll have to figure it out on our own. We do know that these Outsiders apparently have the ability to regenerate wounds quickly. Watch.”

He pulled up the video feed recorded from Liam Jaster’s armor and played the part where he shot the Outsider several times.

“Stop!” Vahlen demanded.

He did. “What is it?”

“Forward, slowly!”

He resumed the video at a slower speed. “Look at the wound areas,” Shen pointed out. The Commander took a closer look. The wounds seemed to be sizzling and were a brighter orange than the rest of it’s body.

Vahlen’s eyes lit up. “If the outsider _is_ in fact created from energy, it would be trivial to use it to heal any wounds it suffers.”

“Or it could simply be advanced nanotechnology.” Shen countered.

“It’s unfortunate that the alien disintegrated upon death,” Vahlen said sadly. “We could learn so much from it.”

The Commander raised his hand and the discussion stopped. “Excellent work, both of you. I doubt we’ll learn more until we bring back a corpse or capture one. But the aliens are stepping up their game regardless and we need to keep up. Shen, I want your team to disassemble some of those drone wrecks and figure out how they work. Vahlen, once you finish with the alien corpses, start on the weapon fragments.”

“Yes, Commander.” They responded.

“Dismissed.”

Each of them walked out the room, leaving the Commander alone to plan the next move.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

Patricia gently placed her gear back in her locker and closed the door.

_Odd_ wasn’t the word she typically associated with loss, but that was the only word that described how she was feeling right now. In her entire twelve year career, filled with multiple combat deployments she’d only lost four soldiers under her command.

Now six.

In each loss she’d reacted more or less the same. Rage, guilt and finally dedicating herself to improvement. Each loss she’d emerged stronger, smarter and tougher. But this was different.

It what she imagined sleepwalking to be like. Everything was brighter, slightly out of focus, and louder. There was an air of surreality surrounding her, like this was nothing but a dream. Even her emotions were numb. She felt nothing.

But her rational mind knew better. This was real and Paige wasn’t coming back. Her only friend had died because she hadn’t made sure that the area was secure. Most wouldn’t fault her. According to Liam, the aliens had literally appeared out of nowhere. But it wasn’t an excuse. People were dead because of her negligence.

At least the rest of her squad had kept their distance. No one had come offering condolences or unwanted sympathy. As odd as it seemed, she appreciated it. The last thing she wanted right now was human interaction.

This phase was only temporary, she knew that. Her mind would catch up with reality soon and she honestly didn’t know what would happen. She was the human equivalent of an emotional time bomb. She was either going to completely break down or utterly destroy anything in her way.

Was this worth it?

Was having a friend worth it if it led to this?

That was what she had been asking herself the entire flight back as she had stared at the covered corpse of Paige. The alien weapon had torn her fair face into red pulp and not wanting to look at her like that, she’d placed a sheet over her. Best the soldiers remember her as she was.

It wasn’t as if she _hadn’t_ known that this might happen. She had anticipated the possibility, and had believed she could handle it. Especially at the beginning of their friendship, she’d prepared for the possibility of her death. But in the three years they’d worked together, that possibility that one of them might die had faded until at some point she believed that it wouldn’t happen.

A mistake she would never repeat again.

“You did well.”

Patricia started and spun to see a hooded woman putting her rifle in her locker. Every part of her body was clothed, she even wore black gloves that matched her special forces attire. Not unusual for a mission deployment, but not something usually worn off-duty. The oddest part about the whole uniform was the hood. She frowned. There was literally no good reason for it unless someone wished their identity hidden. But that wasn’t an issue here. Was it?

Whatever the case, she knew who this woman was. Mira Vauner, one of the more strict and by-the-book soldiers in XCOM. At least according to those she’d commanded. But by all accounts, she was a good leader and it wasn’t hard to see why. Despite her short stature, there was something in the way she carried herself that immediately told Patricia that this was an experienced leader.

Then she remembered that Mira had spoken. “Sorry?” she asked.

Mira closed her locker. “This mission. You handled yourself well.”

Patricia pursed her lips. “Thank you, I guess.”

The small woman turned to face her, the hood completely shadowing her face. “I don’t make that compliment lightly, Specialist Trask. At the loss of a friend, most act irrationally or let their emotions cloud their judgment.”

_That’s not ri-_ then stopped that thought. Did she actually handle herself well? From what she remembered, she’d immediately ordered her remaining soldiers to take cover and fire on the alien.

She shrugged. “How was I supposed to react? I’m not sure I acted completely rational anyway. I was told that my orders were rather…explicit.”

Mira leaned against the locker. “You’d be surprised. It often involves suicidal charges and mental breakdowns. Your first though was for the ones who were still alive. That’s worth noting.”

Patricia scowled. Mira seemed to be sincere, but her grief consoling was pretty terrible. “Just how do you know all this anyway?”

“I watched the video from the armor cams,” she answered. “All mission logs are public.”

Huh. If she wasn’t so distracted now that would actually be a very useful tool. As it stood now, she didn’t really care. She crossed her arms. “Why do you care so much?”

Patricia caught a glimpse of her chin as she answered. “I prefer knowing that the people I work with are reliable. I wasn’t sure about you before, but I am now.”

“And just what changed your mind,” she demanded. “The fact that my friend died?”

“The fact that your friend died _and_ you kept your composure,” Mira amended. “That was what changed my mind.”

“What was this issue before?” Patricia asked, puzzled. “That I _had_ a friend?”

“Of course,” Mira stated it like it should be obvious. “Leaders with friends are emotionally invested, vulnerable, and may not devote themselves to the good of the mission in favor of the well-being of their friends.”

Despite her semi-detachment from reality, Patricia was mildly interested. That particular philosophy was common knowledge and brought up semi-frequently by soldiers believing the brass didn’t care about them. But this was the first time she’d met someone who actually _believed_ it. “I suppose you consider everyone here unreliable then?” she stated flatly.

“Most of them,” she shrugged. “Friends are weaknesses and that’s something I need to prepare to mitigate.”

That was harsh, even by her standards. She might not seek out friends or have any skill in keeping them. But that didn’t mean they were _weaknesses_. Right?

“That seems extreme,” she commented.

Mira raised her head and Patricia got a glimpse underneath the hood of what looked like…scarred or raw skin? “Friends are for civilians,” she stated coldly. “It’s a reality. One that shockingly few soldiers seem to get. We cannot show favoritism or preference to each other simply because we know them. Would you have given the same order to Paige, had you known what would happen?”

Patricia balled her fist. She had wondered who was going to ask this idiotic question and had come up with an answer to it a long time ago. “Of course not!” she spat. “Had I known I wouldn’t have sent anyone and blown the damn computer to hell. Is that _detached_ enough for you?”

She thought she glimpsed a smile. “Good answer. That’s the first time someone’s pointed that out. Smart.”

“I’m so _very_ pleased to have your approval,” Patricia snapped sarcastically. _Now_ she was beginning to get angry. She needed to leave.

“Believe it or not I know how you feel and there is only one way to prevent it from happening again,” Mira continued, oblivious to her growing anger. “Think on it. You’ll see I’m right. Goodbye, Specialist Trask.”

With that she walked away, leaving a tense Patricia.

She took a breath. She needed to leave now, before someone else came and offered unsolicited advice. She spun back to her locker and donned her gear. There was one place she could vent in peace, and maybe come to terms with what had happened.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Training Area_

The training area was empty, luckily.

It made some sense. It was early in the morning, so most of the residents were still sleeping. That was fine with her. She walked over to the punching bag she’d used last time, noting that it was still taped up from where she’d slashed it.

She flexed her hands and without wasting any time, started pummeling the bag. But as she beat up on the bag, something changed. At this point her vision would focus and narrow until everything else was excluded but now she felt like everything was clearer, her senses more attuned. Her blows weren’t directed by blind anger, but cold calculation.

Her mind cycled through multiple memories of the aliens and she directed her blows to match where she would strike if they actually existed. Each strike seemed to enhance her concentration to the point where the rest of the world was slow in comparison. The image of Paige’s destroyed body enter her mind and she snarled.

She slammed both fists into the bag, the sheer force blasting it back. Without wasting time she spun around and backhanded the bag, imagining a resounding crack if she was hitting an alien. Her concentration faltered. _Now_ she was getting angry. Punch after punch she landed on the battered bag, small dents covering the entire thing.

Her vision narrowed and she didn’t even attempt to stop the rage that had been building inside her. She drew on all her anger, guilt and grief, emotions that were seemingly endless at the moment and expressed them in the only way she knew how.

Time didn’t exist in her mind at the moment. Exhaustion was an illusion. There was only her and the bag. One of her gauntlets must have accidently split the covering because several grains of sand were falling out. Her lips pulled back and she immediately started pummeling the open tear until with a final shout and punch, her fist punctured the bag and sand poured out.

That broke her out of her trance.

She shook her head and blinked at the sand slowly pooling onto the floor. Her loss of control usually bothered her, but at the moment, she didn’t care. She backed up and sank against the wall and watched the sand trickle out of the bag. She realized she was shaking. Everything she’d kept repressed was coming up now.

She took a stuttering breath. No, she could handle this. She could keep control now.

“I had a feeling I would find you here.”

She started and looked over to see the Commander leaning against the wall. There was the faintest smile on his face, but he appeared mostly serious. She scrambled to her feet and tried to snap off an appropriate salute.

He raised a hand as if to stop her. “No need for that,” he said. “I’m not here as your commander right now.”

Her heart was racing. She hadn’t thought she’d be speaking to him so soon, especially not _now_. She’d spent a considerable amount of time crafting a suitable apology for the incident the last time they’d met, a fact that Paige had found irritably funny. But everything she’d come up with seeped out of her mind without a trace. She felt her mouth open and close several times like an idiot, but she couldn’t help it. She was a wreck right now and couldn’t imagine a worse time for him to show up. The results of her time here probably wasn’t helping either.   

“What can I do for you, Commander?” she finally asked, mentally wincing at the crack in her voice.

His expression turned completely serious. “Perhaps I should ask _you_ that question, Patricia. I came to see how you were holding up.”

“I’m fine, sir.” She lied, though she could tell that he wasn’t fooled.

He gave a glance at the ripped punching bag and sand on the ground. “Perhaps,” he admitted, then looked back at her. “You should probably sit down, you look exhausted.”

She wasn’t about to disagree. She sank to the floor and rested her head against the wall, her pulse slowly subsiding. He sat down a few feet beside her and rested his arm on a raised knee.

“How long were you standing there?” she asked without looking over.

“Around fifteen minutes,” he answered. “I thought about coming over but figured that idea wasn’t exactly smart.”

She winced. “Probably.”

His tone had the ghost of a smile in it. “Well, it wasn’t like you held back against me before.”

Her face turned red. “About that, sir…I’d like to apologize-“

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Please. Don’t worry about it at all.”

“Still,” she hesitated. “It was…unprofessional and disrespectful.”

“Why?” he questioned. “If I had a problem don’t you think I would have said something?”

“Perhaps,” she admitted. “But…” she sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to commanding officers being so…involved.”

He looked away and nodded. “Understandable. It’s an inevitable problem with large militaries. Detachment is ingrained in most of military command and that was something I disliked. I may not be as involved as I like but I can at least try to make an effort.”

She really didn’t know what to say right now. She’d accepted long ago that the high-ranking officers didn’t view them as people, rather as assets and that honestly didn’t bother her that much. Some soldiers decried it rather vocally while she had just accepted it and did her best to keep _her_ team alive. If the brass didn’t care about her, she could certainly care for her soldiers. The Commander in contrast was completely the opposite. Perhaps it was because of her previous encounters, but he seemed a kind, understanding and intelligent man who seemed to treat the people under him the same way she did.

“It’s unfortunate that there aren’t more people like you.” She responded.

The corners of his lips turned up. “Some would disagree. But I do my best.” He looked at her again. “So tell me the truth, how are you really doing?”

She hesitated. “I really don’t want to burden you.”

“Losing someone you care about isn’t easy,” he answered slowly. “Especially the first time. It’s not something that you can just hide and forget. The first time it happened to me, my best friend died.”

Patricia was silent, not wanting to interrupt. He continued. “I don’t claim to be a model for this, but the best description for my feelings at the time was _odd_. It was almost like being in a dream, you know what is happening is real, yet your mind isn’t processing it through.”

She blinked. That almost matched her feelings exactly. She hesitantly asked. “How did you deal with it?”

“At first I did nothing,” he shrugged. “I figured I was strong enough that I could work well enough that my emotions wouldn’t cause an issue. And it worked. For a while.” He was silent for a few seconds. “Then I snapped one day. I was interrogating some terrorist, I forget who, and somewhere in my mind, decided that he was responsible for every death I had suffered.”

Patricia pushed herself up and turned her body to face him. “What did you do?” she asked softly.

“I killed him,” he stated. “His death wasn’t an issue for me. What bothered me what _why_ I had done it. I had never lost control like that before. It took me a few days to figure out what had happened. In fact, it wasn’t me who figured it out.”

“Who was it?”

“One of my friends. He came over after it had happened and we started talking. We talked for quite a while and the best solution I found was actually quite simple.”

She waited a few seconds. “What is it?”

“Talk about it,” he said simply. “What I failed to realize at the time was that there were people around me who actually had some interest in me. So I talked with them about the ones I lost, we remembered their lives and in the process let out all the grief that comes with death.”

She looked down.  “Maybe. But I don’t exactly make friends easily.”

“Really?” he asked lightly. “We’re getting along just fine.”

She scowled. “I’m thinking that was more of an accident. That normally doesn’t happen.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

She shrugged. “People just seem slow. Their minds don’t process information like I do. I just find it frustrating trying to talk with people who don’t see what is so clear to me.” She sighed. “I know that it’s my fault. I know how others perceive me. But I can’t help it.”

“So how did Paige get through?”

Patricia hesitated. “She didn’t exactly think like me, but she made an effort to understand at the very least. Looking back I was probably pretty terrible to her. But she persisted and somewhere along we became friends.”

She looked down. “Now I’ll never be able to apologize for how badly I treated her sometimes. I have no idea why she stuck by me.”

The Commander gave a smile. “It’s what friends do. Good ones don’t leave when things get difficult. She clearly thought your friendship was worth keeping. Remember that. She wouldn’t want you feeling bad for being her friend.”

“Maybe Mira’s right,” she muttered dejectedly. “Perhaps friends should be abandoned in this job if it leads to this.”

“Mira Vauner?” the Commander asked, cocking his head. “When did she talk to you?”

She shrugged. “A few hours ago. To ‘congratulate’ me for ‘handling myself well.’”

“Ah,” he responded. “That sounds like her.”

“Is she right?”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “Mira has not had an easy life. I won’t say more, but she has reasons for her beliefs. Are they right? I don’t believe so. Friends only become weaknesses if you allow them to be. I’d argue that we _need_ strong bonds between soldiers in this war. It’s a basic fact, people fight better together than alone.”

She took a few seconds to think about that. It made sense, to a degree. “I wish I were as certain.” She admitted. “For you, yeah, that makes sense. But I’m not like you. I don’t have your charisma or leadership ability.”

“Despite what you may think, many people consider you to be an excellent leader,” the Commander told her sincerely. “Don’t discount yourself simply because you’re feeling guilty. Don’t give up on people because you give up on yourself. People will come talk to you and offer their condolences. Don’t push them away. Talk with them and you’ll likely get along.”

She was quiet for a few seconds and sighed. “I’ll try that.”

He nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

She hesitated. “I suppose you probably have things to do.”

“I always have things to do,” he corrected with a smile. “The urgency of them, not so much.”

She pushed past her uncertainty. “How urgent?”

He looked at her. “You want to talk?”

She thought about making some sarcastic comment, but it died a few seconds after entering her mind. “Yes,” she answered. “I would.”

For most of the next hour she told him about Paige. How they met, what she was like, some interesting stories. Some utterly irrelevant ones. He made some comments here and there but mostly just let her talk and listened attentively.

After they had talked for some time, she finally stopped to let him get back to work. She thanked him the best she was able and left. Her grief wasn’t completely gone, but it was eased now, and she knew that she would be fine.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

She’d be fine. He had no doubt about that.

She’d fully recover in a few days and be stronger than ever. It was amazing how much people opened up when you just listened. It didn’t matter what their personality was like, listening to what they said was a sure way to gain understanding and loyalty. He hoped that she would extend that courtesy to he fellow soldiers as he had done to her.

It had taken a not-insignificant amount of time, but he felt it was worth it. He had ten new recruits scheduled for arrival at the end of month which was in the next few days, but he had to make sure that the ones he had now were stable enough to initiate the recruits. He rubbed his forehead.

The Council was going to send a report soon and he was curious what they would say. As politically charged as this entire project was, he felt things had gone reasonably well. He’d lost a few soldiers but had gained a rudimentary understanding of the aliens and their technology. Vahlen had literally just finished her research on the creature her team had dubbed the “Sectoid.” Why that particular name was chosen, he didn’t know, but what she had found had been fascinating.

According to her, the sectoids were perfect genetic copies of each other. The reason their heads were so enlarged was because they were conditioned to harness a telepathic power Vahlen and her team were calling “psionics.” Fitting as names went. As far as Vahlen could tell, there was no way to block psionic attacks, but her analysis of Luke Warner and the data gathered from the hard suits of the soldiers who had been affect showed a direct link between mental willpower and psionic resistance.

Intriguing information. Which he wasn’t sure how to use at the moment. Willpower was something he sadly had no control over, though it did give him some comfort of his ability to resist the aliens. Still, everyone could have their bad days.

However, thanks to her autopsy, he now had identified a glaring weakness in the alien forces. A bioweapon designed to target the genetic code of the sectoids was now a very viable possibility and would be devastating to their forces. Sadly, that tactic would probably only work once or twice before the aliens realized what was happening and either gave the sectoids adequate protection or modified their genetic code.

No, a bioweapon would only work in the short term. What was needed was a virus, an _epidemic_. It would be incredibly difficult to pull off, but the results could be catastrophic. Infecting several sectoids and then retreating was risky, but the hope would be that they returned to wherever their base was and infected the ones there. The ideal virus would be airborne and have an incubation period of about five weeks. More than enough time for the virus to spread.

He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. The ground war had to stabilize before he even began implementing an idea like that. Vahlen’s team was studying the weapon fragments now and assured him that the results would come in a few days.

Shen’s team was hard at work excavating the caverns underneath the Citadel and constructing the Foundry. It’d be finished in around a week. He had some ideas for Shen, but was currently in the process of composing them at the moment.

Bradford and his team were performing excellently. There was nothing to concern himself with there. If Bradford had issues, he dealt with them or came to him.

In short, XCOM was performing well. Whether the Council agreed was another matter entirely, and since the majority of their funding was coming from them, he was unfortunately more reliant on them than he felt was acceptable. Something that needed to change soon. XCOM Intelligence was still in the same place as before. Bradford told him he was looking into a suitable director, but had told him that the alien threat was taking priority. Understandable, if frustrating. That was something that had to at least get started in the next month.

He leaned back in his chair. The war was going to enter a new phase soon. The aliens weren’t going to go easy on them for much longer, and he had to be ready to respond.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

_Three days later_

“The Council is ready,” Bradford informed him, one hand on his headset. “Answer when ready.”

The Commander nodded. “Thank you, Bradford. Dismissed.” Bradford nodded and left the room. The Commander pressed a button on the table and the screen displaying the world was replaced by a familiar sight. A bald man silhouetted by blue light seated at a table. At least it was the bald councilor he was speaking too, he’d seemed more reasonable than his colleague.

The Commander inclined his head. “Speaker,”

_“Commander,”_ the synthesized voice greeted. _“The Council is pleased to see that the progress of this project had been…worthwhile. We hope that these successes only mark the beginning of your effort to eliminate the extraterrestrial threat.”_

That sounded incredibly rehearsed, but ultimately positive. “Thank you, Speaker,” he responded. “My goal remains the same and I hope that our cooperation continues.”

_“The Council agrees,”_ the councilor inclined his head. _“However, there are…rumors, concerning certain protocols enacted by your…internal council.”_

Ah, the contingencies. The fact that they were asking this indicated that they’d didn’t know the extent of them. Not that it mattered.

“We did enact contingencies for our soldiers,” the Commander admitted. “However, as I’m sure the Council is no doubt aware, that is standard protocol for paramilitary organizations. XCOM lacked a basic contingency outline, so with the help of my internal council, I created one.”

_“The Council is well aware of the precedent set for…military organizations. But some councilors are concerned about the…content…of them that they feel goes…beyond…what is necessary.”_

Cowards. If they wanted to say something, they better say it. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific,” he answered with a practiced frown. “With nothing to go on, I’m afraid that I can’t alleviate your concerns.”

_“These councilors have…failed…to provide specifics to the rest of the Council. So I am afraid that I cannot give you a sufficient answer.”_

As he suspected, they had nothing and this was purely personal. At least this speaker seemed at least somewhat impartial. Did the Council actually believe that veiled threats would work on him?

He kept up the pretense of reluctant sorrow. “Well, if they cannot provide examples, then I cannot make changes, as I’m sure the Council wishes me to.”

_“It is…unfortunate_ ,” the speaker agreed. _“That these rumors remain…unfounded. I feel that transparency can only benefit both of us. We are, after all, on the same side.”_

That was the idea anyway. Whether they actually were or not was another matter entirely. He was getting the impression that the Council wasn’t as united as they would like him to believe. Something to exploit later.

“I agree,” he told the speaker. “Transparency only benefits us both. Which is why I wish to know where exactly, certain council members heard these clearly unfounded rumors.”

There was silence on the other end. _“The councilors…do not wish for their sources to be revealed. They consider your question…inconsequential.”_

Well, of course they did. And he didn’t have anything to use against them quite yet. Another reason to establish XCOM Intelligence as soon as possible. “Should I expect any problems from these councilors?” he asked. It wasn’t like he expected an answer, but felt it was worth attempting.

_“The Council remains fully committed to ensuring that you lead humanity to victory against the alien threat, Commander.”_ The speaker began. _“However, certain councilors are beginning…protocols…allowing them to exercise more oversight on the XCOM project.”_

The Commander blinked. This was…unexpected. Not that some councilors were moving against him, he’d expected that from the moment he accepted his position. No, it was that he was hearing it _directly_ from the council speaker.

Which immediately made him suspicious.

This could very well be bait or a test to see what he would do with this information. He certainly _wanted_ to believe that this man was just doing an excellent job at being impartial. But with the UN, that was usually not the case.

“I’m impressed,” he finally said. “I’m certain the Council wouldn’t want that information relayed to me.”

_“I am the voice of the Council,”_ The speaker stated. _“I share the current state of the Council and their current feelings towards you and the XCOM project. To exclude information does not help either of us.”_

The Commander crossed his arms. “Admirable.”

And he meant it. If he was actually telling the truth. Time to finish this meeting.

“Tell the Council that I remain fully committed to defeating the alien threat and continuously appreciate their support and look forward to continuing our shared partnership.”

_“We hope for the same, Commander. Remember, we will be watching.”_

The screen went black.

“I’m sure you will,” he muttered at the screen. “And so will I.”

 


	12. First Contact: Thin Men

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

_One week later_

It had been a quiet week by XCOM standards.

One alien abduction had been reported and a squad had been sent in and quickly wiped the aliens out. There’d been no sign of outsiders or the alien infiltrators. They had only encountered sectoids and some of their drones. The soldiers were adapting quickly to counter their abilities as best they could and as a result, were slowly gaining the upper hand.

It helped that every soldier now had a detailed analysis of the aliens encountered. He’d released the full report Vahlen had sent to him, which described the sectoid and it’s abilities in addition to the autopsy that had been performed. Shen and his team had used the data from the sectoid autopsy and drone breakdown to upgrade every soldier’s hardsuit which allowed more focused targeting on weak points in the alien’s physiology and structure.

He’d also released everything they had on the outsiders as well. Even if they didn’t have many concrete details, the soldiers needed to be aware of their abilities and apply the necessary tactics. Most of which boiled down to, “Use as many bullets and grenades as necessary.” Morale wasn’t exactly _low_ at the moment, but the combination of a new regenerating alien and the death of Paige had certainly shaken it.

The new soldiers had also arrived. Ten in total, they brought his reserves up to an acceptable level. He’d personally screened and approved them and was confident that he chose the best of the best. It hadn’t exactly been cheap, as the Council nations preferred to keep their best soldiers to themselves, but he viewed it as a necessary expense. If XCOM fell, it didn’t matter if those countries had the best soldiers in the world, they would all die. Plain and simple.

 _“Commander to the Research Labs,”_ The synthesized female voice blared over the loudspeaker. _“Commander to the Research Labs.”_

He got up. Vahlen must have finished her research on the weapon fragments. He hoped there’d been a breakthrough. He opened a line to Bradford.

“Tell Vahlen I’m on my way.”

_“Will do, Commander.”_

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Research Labs_

Vahlen’s team was slightly larger now, thanks to the Council sending several of their top scientists in addition to the soldiers he requested. She’d been ecstatic when they’d arrived and immediately put them to work. She’d told him that the speed of their research would be increased dramatically thanks to the additional help.

The glass doors hissed open and he strode into the sterile environment. Scientists were hunched over microscopes or running simulations on the alien artifacts. Vahlen herself was discussing something with one of her scientists while both of them were looking at results on her tablet.

Her eyes flashed up and caught a glimpse of him. She began telling her colleague to leave, but the Commander shook his head, indicating she should finish. She nodded and resumed her conversation while he went to a table that had several of the weapon fragments on it.

How Vahlen and her team had been able to get anything at all from these ruined scraps of circuits and metal, he didn’t know. But it was impressive, to say the least. None of the fragments were larger than his fist and all were charred to some degree in the places where the weapon had broken apart.

He looked over to another table and blinked. _Interesting_. Someone had tried to reconstruct one of the sectoid wrist weapons and the result didn’t look half-bad. There were clear weld marks and the weapon wasn’t pretty, but it looked like it could actually function.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Vahlen warned as she walked over. “The weapon’s systems are designed to only activate then attached to a biological component. Not to mention it lacks a power core we can’t replicate. We didn’t believe we could learn anything more from it.”

“Ah,” the Commander answered, standing back up. “Understandable. Still, it isn’t that badly put together.”

Vahlen ran her fingers through her hair. “Thank you, Commander. It’s sad that this particular experiment didn’t work out the way I had hoped.”

“So what _have_ you found out?”

She pursed her lips. “Do you want the good news, or the bad?”

“Best to get the bad news out of the way.”

She nodded. “It’s probably not a surprise, but examining the fragments confirmed that their technology is vastly superior to our own. The level of complexity and delicacy surpasses anything we have created.”

Not really unexpected. “And what is the good news?”

She motioned him over and gestured at her tablet. Schematics for what appeared to be a new kind of weapon were displayed. “I believe we have a firm enough grasp on the fragments to begin fabricating advanced weapons of our own.”

He took a closer look. “Laser weaponry. Useful.”

Vahlen nodded. “Agreed. We have to solve the problem of heat dissipation, but with your approval, we can begin working on them immediately.”

“Do you have a time-table?”

She frowned. “Four, five days, perhaps? Provided nothing unexpected happens.”

The Commander nodded. “Do it. Anything else?”

“Yes,” she swiped her finger on the tablet and new schematics for a scope appeared. “In conjunction with Shen’s team, we were able to design a new type of scope beyond anything created before. Shen would like to begin integrating this scope with all our current weaponry as soon as possible.”

The Commander frowned. “As much as I would like to, that kind of investment isn’t cheap and XCOM has a limited amount of funds.”

“Understood, Commander,” Vahlen nodded. “Shen just asked me to pass on his request.”

“I’ll speak to him,” the Commander promised. “But excellent work. This will hopefully allow us to gain an advantage over the aliens.”

Vahlen leaned against the table and sighed. “I hope so. This task seems so…daunting sometimes. I sometimes wonder if we’re looking down the right paths. How long until we invest into a project that ultimately fails?”

“Don’t worry about that,” the Commander encouraged. “You’re one of the smartest people in the world for a reason. I’m certain that you won’t let me down.”

She looked at him and gave a faint smile. “I’m flattered. Truly. I hope your trust is well placed.”

The Commander gave a small smile. “I’m certain it is.”

 _“Commander to the Situation Room,”_ Bradford’s voice broke over the loudspeaker. _“Commander to the Situation Room.”_

The Commander looked up at the speaker and frowned. If Bradford was calling him up, something must be happening. Could the Council want something? Perhaps. Best to see what it was.

“I should probably see what that is,” he said apologetically to Vahlen. “Apologies for cutting this short.”

She shook her head fiercely. “No need, Commander. We each have our roles to play. I’ll speak to you later.”

The Commander walked out of the labs, wondering what Bradford needed him for that was so important.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The Commander strode into the room where Bradford was leaning on the table. He pushed himself up immediately once he noticed the Commander and saluted.

“Commander,” he greeted. “We have a priority transmission from the Council.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “Do we now? What for?”

Bradford shook his head. “Can’t say, Commander. But I’m guessing it’s important.”

 _Let’s hope it’s nothing major,_ the Commander thought. If some councilors were uniting against him, this could be bad news. Realistically, it was unlikely that this particular request had anything to do with that issue, but best to prepare.

Bradford handed him a tablet. “It’s set up and ready when you are,” he told him. “I’ll leave you to it.”

The Commander raised a hand. “No need. I think it’s time you had more direct communication with our… _allies_.”

Bradford nodded and stepped off to the side. “If you think so, Commander. Thank you.”

The Commander turned his attention away from Bradford and to the screen. Mentally preparing himself, he opened the video feed. The screen flashed and a figure silhouetted by a familiar blue light greeted him. Sadly, it wasn’t the bald speaker, but the female one.

So, this seemed to confirme that the Council had only two speakers, both of whom alternated with each other. Good to know. Perhaps this speaker had taken a lesson from her colleague in impartiality. Realistically, he doubted it.

 _“Commander,”_ the Speaker greeted. _“The Council is…pleased…that you have answered our request.”_

What did they expect him to do? Ignore them and add more legitimacy to those allied against him? He inwardly sighed. His false diplomatic side was going to be exercised now.

“Of course, Speaker,” he nodded. “I assume the Council would not request me for anything trivial.”

 _“You assume correctly,”_ the Speaker replied. _“We have…acquired…some information that may be critical to your ongoing fight.”_

Was that right? Were they actually _doing_ something?

“You have my attention.”

The Speaker gave an almost imperceptible nod, her hand pressed a button off to the side and the image of a man appeared on the screen. He was clearly of Chinese origin, likely late forties to early fifties with dull grey hair. The most striking aspects of his profile were the jagged scars across his right eye and cheek.

 _“Shaojie Zhang,”_ the Speaker explained. _“From our sources, he is a highly placed operative in the Chinese Triad. Despite his background, he contacted us, requesting extraction in exchange for an alien…device…his superiors found.”_

Now _that_ was interesting. Since his focus had been on the Middle East during the War on Terror, he hadn’t had much interaction with the Triads, though he was well aware of their reputation. However, he knew that each member of the Triads took oaths upon initiation, some of which dealt with betrayal. The punishments were rather grandiose too if he remembered correctly, failing any of the oaths resulting in either death by “Five thunderbolts,” or “A myriad of swords.” He was convinced that these particular deaths were only kept as tradition, if repeated at all. But the sentiment remained.

Which made him skeptical of this Triad member’s supposed “defection.”

“How highly placed is this man?” The Commander asked.

_“He claims to hold the rank, roughly translating to “Vanguard.” In a gesture to…prove… his identify, he has sent over thirty document detailing Triad activity in the past ten years. I will forward them to your central officer now.”_

“Receiving,” Bradford muttered.

Assuming that the Triad still used the same ranking system as ten years ago, Zhang wasn’t just a “highly placed operative,” he was one step away from the so-called “Dragon Head” himself. Which would explain how he was able to acquire an alien device.

 “Do we have confirmation that he actually _has_ the alien device?” the Commander demanded.

_“Mr. Zhang has said that he will only turn over the device once he had been extracted and provided asylum.”_

The Commander crossed his arms. “And you want me to send a team to extract him.”

The Speaker nodded. _“Correct, Commander. We feel you are best suited to handle this as you have had much experience with…unsavory…individuals, as well as the fact that the alien device might provide some insight into their motives or technology.”_

Even Bradford picked up on the faintly veiled insult as he glanced up, frowned, and returned to looking at the tablet. For his part, the Commander took it in stride and didn’t show any emotion. He had thought having Bradford in the room might deter these passive-aggressive comments, but apparently not.

“I am… _flattered_ …you think so highly of me,” the Commander answered in veiled sarcasm. “Once I have extracted Zhang are there any more… _instructions_ …for me.”

 _“Yes,”_ the Speaker folded her hands. _“Once the device has been recovered, restrain Zhang and prepare him for transport to the ADX Florence for detainment and subsequent trial.”_

The Commander blinked. Despite himself he was actually impressed. Using someone like that and then betraying them was incredibly cold and more in line with something _he_ would do rather than the Council.

Still, there was the little detail that Zhang had made a _deal_ in exchange for the device and while the Commander wouldn’t hesitate to execute anyone who posed a threat to XCOM, he was certainly not going to betray someone who was helping them.

Though if someone wanted to argue semantics, _technically_ it was the Council who was renegaging on the deal and not him. But he hated that kind of cop-out thinking. Despite what the Council believed about him, he had standards, and one of those was “ _Do not betray those who help you.”_

Still, no reason to not be tactful. Yet. “Is that not betraying our word?” he questioned. “I presume that you have already agreed to extract him and that likely meant accepting his deal.”

 _“The files he provided us have incriminated him ten times over,”_ the Speaker’s tone turned harsh enough that the synthetic distortion couldn’t hide it. _“This man was responsible millions of dollars in illegal drug trading, counterfeiting, not to mention responsible for overseeing operations using intimidation, physical assault and murder. He is a detriment to society and does not deserve our mercy or protection.”_

The words described Zhang, but he felt they were clearly directed at him. The hypocrisy stung. They were apparently fine, at least publically, with him, a declared war criminal, leading a paramilitary organization to defend against an alien invasion. But refusing to honor a deal with a criminal whose crimes were not nearly as numerous or high was seen as “morally right?”

“This may be the right course of action if there wasn’t an invasion,” the Commander warned carefully. “As there is, I feel that we need all the help we can get. While both of us _certainly_ want _justice_ to be served, a trial right now is borderline on ignoring the real threat and instead focusing on a personal vendetta,” he shook his head in mock disbelief. “I mean, both of us can agree how _unprofessional_ and _selfish_ that would be, right.”

The Speaker was silent for a few minutes. She didn’t even bother hiding the venom in her voice when she finally spoke. _“Of course, Commander. We can both agree that according to the law, this man deserves prison at the least and likely death. A completely impartial judgement. You have your orders. The Council expects them followed to the letter.”_

The screen went blank.

Despite the abrupt disconnection, the Commander smiled. Riling up the Speaker had felt very satisfying and disconnecting without so much as a farewell might even reflect badly on her.

Bradford let out a sigh and leaned against the table. “Are they…always like this?”

He looked over at him. “No. The other speaker they have is decent. By that I mean that he actually does his job impartially.”

Bradford shook his head. “I guess I expected the Council to be more…friendly…I suppose. If I didn’t know better I’d say that you have some enemies.”

“I do,” he revealed to Bradford. “If you are ever in a leadership position, you will _always_ have enemies. It’s an inevitable part of the job.”

Bradford sounded subdued. “Perhaps. I suppose I never understood what you had to deal with. Are you going to follow their instructions?”

Some would view this as a dilemma. He did not. “That depends on if Zhang actually has the alien device,” he answered firmly. “If he does, I am not turning him over to the Council. If he does not, we turn him over.”

Bradford handed him a tablet. “Just based on the files he sent over as proof, I’m inclined to believe that he is legitimate. The Council is not going to be happy with you.”

“Perhaps,” the Commander shrugged. “But until they replace me, I’m conducting this operation and will do it the right way.”

Bradford nodded. “Understood. I’ll prepare one of our skyrangers.”

The Commander nodded. “Good. I’ll prepare a team.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Engineering Bay_

Abby picked up the improved med-kit and frowned at the engineer who’d been showing it off. “So it uses stimulants? I thought that line of research had been abandoned because of the addiction risks.”

The engineer wrung his hands together. “That particular issue was rather challenging and was the first thing addressed. But honestly, we didn’t develop the actual non-addictive stimulant. Give your thanks to Vahlen’s team for that. We were the ones who integrated it into the existing med-kit as well as improving the amount of charges.”

“Which is appreciated,” Abby agreed. “How long will a revived soldier last?”

The engineer rested his chin on his fist. “Based on animal testing, around three to four hours before the stimulant will wear off. But we don’t know how it will actually perform in the field.”

Abby hooked the med-kit to her belt. “Thank you. How long before the rest of the med-kits are upgraded.”

The engineer shook his head. “That’s going to be up to the Commander. We sadly don’t have unlimited funds or resources to make everything we want. We have to pick and choose. You’re a medic, so you need the best we can make, but it’s not economically feasible to upgrade _every_ single med-kit.”

Abby sighed. “Understandable, I suppose. Is Shen going to push for funding in any particular direction?”

“He might,” the engineer admitted. “We’ve developed a new type of scope that would dramatically increase the aim of our weapons. He’s likely to push for something that will benefit _all_ of the soldiers instead of a situational tool.” He gave an apologetic shrug. “Nothing against you, but I think that’s how he sees it.”

As much as she disliked it, it made sense. But she got the feeling that she was going to be needed soon and concerned what would happen if she didn’t make it. Which was a very real possibility, as Paige’s death had shown.

The wristband she was wearing buzzed. The Commander had recently distributed them to more easily notify soldiers of deployment. Her heart began racing as the vibrating metal sent minute ripples on her fair skin. It was time.

“I’ve got to go,” she told the engineer. “Thanks, again. I hopefully won’t need this.”

He gave a solemn nod. “Good luck.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Hanger Bay_

She’d become so accustomed to her armor over the past few weeks that at this point, it was almost like a second skin. She’d been occasionally shooting on the range but the majority of her time had been devoted to learning the medical equipment and speaking with the soldiers.

She’d been legitimately surprised to find out that she was technically more qualified than any of the medics on staff to treat battlefield injuries, a fact she tried to downplay as much as possible. What they lacked in degrees, they made up for in experience. So far, none of the soldiers that had come back wounded had required her intervention, though she had taken a look at some of the wounds.

The alien weapons seems to utilize some kind of concentrated heat or beam technology. _Laser_ could be applied to one of the wounds she’d seen, but from performing the autopsy on Paige, their main weapons did far more damage than cauterization; the beam also acted as an acid of some kind that spread out while dissolving and melting the skin.

The best explanation was the use of plasma. It shouldn’t be possible to utilize it on this scale, but she couldn’t think of another explanation for the wounds she had seen. She’d asked Dr. Vahlen about it after seeing the evidence she’d provided, seemed to agree, though she admitted she’d have to run some more tests to be sure.

Well, for now she was going off this theory and in response had equipped herself with anti-acid and anti-burn equipment as well as her med-kits and heavy-duty scalpels. She looked down at the med-kit strapped to her leg to remind herself it was still there. She was terrified of accidentally leaving her gear behind and as a result, was constantly checking herself.

Reassured, she removed her helmet from the crook of her arm and placed it on her head as she approached the hanger door. She heard a familiar click and hiss and waited a few seconds as the HUD booted up. Engineering had told her the each of the suits were insulated to prevent EMP attacks, but she was not entirely convinced that would hold up.

The hanger door hissed open and she strode through. At least she wasn’t the last one to arrive. Myra Rodriguez was waiting along with Pete Chandler and one of the new recruits…what was his name? Jo something? She scowled inside her helmet. She’d made a point to at least remember names. Her frustration was quickly replaced by interest as she saw the fourth member of the team. A sniper clad in pure black armor.

So he _did_ exist.

The mysterious sniper had been a briefly debated subject a few days after he’d gone on a mission under Patricia’s command. The interesting part was that no one had been able to find him since, leading some to believe that he hadn’t actually gone on it at all. The fact that he hadn’t showed up on the official after-action report was even stranger.

Well, by the accounts she’d heard, this man was an excellent shot and followed orders well. He also didn’t speak for some reason, but he hopefully had gotten over it by now. An additional armor case was at his feet, implying…what exactly? An extraction or hostage situation? Hopefully Myra would have some answers.

Myra saw her and nodded, her grey armor dimly reflecting the cavern lights. “Abby, good. Almost everyone’s here.”

“Another abduction?” She asked.

“Good question,” she answered, somewhat irritated. She motioned over to the sniper. “I’m pretty sure he knows, but has so far refused to inform me.”

“Do you know anything about him?” she asked. “I mean, he’s only really been seen once.”

Myra’s tone turned to a mix of wary and nervous. “That he’s dangerous. There’s a reason he keeps to himself. Look at his “nationality.”” Abby looked at his armor collar where the soldier’s national flag was displayed and she turned cold.

“Ah,” was all she said.

The bloody crucifix was an image she never wanted to see again. She’d thought that that symbol had been destroyed when the Commander’s team had been captured, tried and executed.

Apparently not.

“Yeah,” Myra confirmed in a subdued tone. “We have a terrorist working for XCOM.”

“Wonderful,” Abby stated. “What is he doing in XCOM?”

“If I had to guess, he’s probably here at the request of our commander.”

She frowned. “Why would he _want_ a known _terrorist_?”

Myra’s head turned sharply and Abby could swear she could read surprise on her emotionless helmet. “You haven’t heard? Well…ok. How to put this…the commander we have now once worked for the terrorist commander.”

Abby stepped back. “What?” she hissed. “What is _he_ doing free?”

“According to Liam, he defected and helped capture the Commander when he killed the vice president.” Myra explained.

“Still,” Abby shook her head. “Why did the Council put him in charge of XCOM? Surely there are…better…people than a former terrorist to choose from?”

Myra took out her pistol and eyed the sniper. “Don’t ask me. But between us, our commander hasn’t done a bad job so far.”

“How did Liam ever hear about it?”

“He told him,” Myra shrugged. “He hasn’t tried to hide it. I’ve heard that if you ask, he’ll tell you. Which makes me inclined to think either he’s admitting his mistakes and trying to atone, or deceiving every one of us.”

Abby snorted as a thought came to her. “I guess things have come full circle for him. He worked for the Commander and now he _is_ the Commander.”

“It gets confusing sometimes,” Myra agreed. “I don’t know why the Commander doesn’t use his name. Habit, I guess.”

“Are you going to do anything about him?” she subtly inclined her head towards the sniper.

Myra holstered her pistol. “I’ll be watching him. If he so much as runs the other direction, I’m enacting the Janus Contingency. I’m not treating a psycho like that lightly.”

Abby was relieved that Myra had some common sense. The hanger door hissed open and three more people walked through. Adrian Francis, Pete Chandler and their pilot who she remembered well due to her unique name. Riley Ignis, or “Burning Sky.”

Riley wasted no time. “Load up!” she ordered. “We have a limited window here!” The ramp to the skyranger descended and Myra motioned everyone to enter.

“You heard the pilot!” she yelled. “Move out!”

* * *

 

_Skyranger, En route to Landing Zone_

Riley must have been in a hurry. No sooner than she’d strapped in had the engines roared and they’d gone airborne. She gritted her teeth as the skyranger shook with turbulence, that was something she still wasn’t used to. Even though she knew better, it felt at times that the skyranger was going to break apart at any time.

But after a few minutes it smoothed out and she began to relax. As much as she was able, what with them likely to fight in the near future.

 _“Stand by for the Commander,”_ Burning Sky’s voice announced. _“Patching through now.”_

That was fast. Mission briefings didn’t usually come until right before deployment. Then again, this clearly wasn’t an ordinary mission.

 _“This is the Commander to Bengal Team,”_ the Commander’s voice broke through. _“This mission has been specifically requested for us by the Council. Your target: Shaojie Zhang, Chinese Triad, now defector to the UN. Uploading image now.”_

Her HUD flashed and the image of older and grizzled Chinese man appeared in the right-hand corner. She didn’t know much about organized crime in general, but even so, she immeditatly wasn’t sure about this mission. What if it was a trap? The Commander continued.

_“Zhang is reportedly in possession of an alien device that he claims he acquired from his superiors. While we have been able to determine his identity, the device in his possession is not something we could verify. Be wary of a trap. If Zhang has the device, have him armor up in the additional suit provided and arm him, then bring him to the extraction zone. If he does not, subdue him and bring him back to the Citadel for interrogation. If that is not possible, execute him.”_

“Should we expect alien contacts?” Myra asked.

_“Unknown. We don’t know if the Triad’s acquisition of this device indicates collaboration or simply opportunism. The Triad will likely notice Zhang’s absence by the time you get there, so expect hostile contacts regardless. Be advised that the Triad will likely attempt to use deception to reacquire Zhang and may appear posing as military or law enforcement.”_

Myra was silent for a few seconds. “Does this mean the Thanatos Contingency is in effect?”

_“Yes. Consider this a formal declaration.”_

“Understood, sir.” Myra stated.

Damn it. Abby seethed. She’d hoped that was one contingency she’d be able to avoid. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Well, no way was she just executing people simply for acting suspicious and she didn’t think the rest of the squad was going to either. She didn’t understand his reasoning for the contingency. Did he really think that soldiers were just going to shoot people for giving them a hard time and just forget it? No. Because people didn’t think like that and from her experience, most were reasonable. The knowledge that the man had worked for the Commander made all the contingencies make a lot more sense. Maybe he was conditioned to prepare for the worst case scenario, but the wording and descriptions bordered the extreme.

 _“This is a time sensitive mission, Bengal Team,”_ the Commander emphasized. _“Go in, get the target, and get out. Good luck. Citadel Command, out.”_

Myra looked over at the silent sniper with the armor case at his feet. “You know, you could have just told us what it was for and saved us a lot of time.”

As expected, he said nothing. But he seemed almost amused by her comment. Myra was probably rolling her eyes but turned back to the rest of the squad. “I’ve received the location for our target and our landing zone. It’s not far, but it’ll require speed and precision. Follow my lead _exactly_. Do not deviate from my orders _at all_ ,” she ordered with a pointed look at the sniper. “Understood?”

“Yes, Overseer!” they shouted in response. Myra looked at each of the soldiers.

“Adrian, Pete, Abby and Jo. Did I get the names right?”

“Yep,” Adrian confirmed. “You may be the first to actually remember Jo’s name.”

The man in the tan-colored armor groaned. “Not quite. Everyone remembers my _first_ name for some reason. Not my full name.”

Myra shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Adrian mockingly comforted. “I guess it’s just so generic that it fades after a few seconds.”

“In the interest of breaking that theory,” Abby broke in. “What _is_ it exactly?”

“ _Simon_ ,” he emphasized clearly. “It’s _Simon_.”

“Sorry,” Pete raised a hand. “What was it again? I forgot?”

They each chuckled at that. Jo punched him good-naturedly. “Hilarious, utterly hilarious.”

“Getting back to a more serious topic,” Myra continued, leaning forward. “A reminder that just because the Thanatos Contingency has been activated, it does _not_ mean we are going to execute it. You are to check your fire, regardless of the Commander’s orders. Understood?”

Each of them nodded in confirmation. “Understood, Overseer.”

Good for her. It was rather brave of her to directly challenge a superior like that, especially since everything they said was being recorded and watched.

_“Squad Overseer, be advised that the Thanatos Contingency is not an order. It is an authorization. Just clarifying.”_

It was the closest thing to chastisement she’d heard from the Commander. “Clarified,” Myra informed the Commander. “Thank you.”

_“Of course, Overseer. Use your best judgement.”_

The squad was silent after that for a while. She hoped that this went smoothly and everyone got out without having to fire a shot. Given their luck, that was highly unlikely.

_“This is Burning Sky to Bengal Team. We’re coming in hot, prepare for deployment in thirty!”_

“Understood, Burning Sky,” Myra acknowledged and motioned to the squad. “Everyone up! Prepare to deploy!”

There was a multitude of hisses as they unstrapped and readied their weapons. Abby’s balance wasn’t quite adjusted to deployment so she still grabbed onto the handle at the top of the skyranger. One day she’d be able to keep her balance like Myra.

_“Landing in five!”_

The skyranger shuddered as they hit the ground. With a hiss and the sound of squealing metal the ramp deployed.

“Go, go, go!” Myra shouted as they charged into desolate street.

* * *

 

_China, Hong Kong Slums_

“Should it normally be this quiet?” Abby whispered as they silently made their way through the streets.

“This isn’t a heavily populated area,” Jo informed. “Besides, I doubt anyone is going to mess with six heavily armed soldiers.”

“And how many of those people work for the Triad?” Adrian asked. “They _do_ employ poor people, right?”

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t,” Jo admitted. “But they don’t know why we’re here, for the moment.”

“Abby’s right,” Myra muttered. “Something is off here. This isn’t heavily populated by _Hong Kong_ standards. Over seven million people live here, I find it hard to believe that we haven’t seen _any_ yet.”

“Check that.” Pete muttered. “Got one.” He motioned with rifle towards a man in a business suit.

“Leave him alone,” Myra ordered. “Don’t engage unless he does.”

They moved past him. The man barely reacted at all, he followed them with his head, eyes obscured by spectacles, then turned and walked off.

“Crisis averted,” Jo muttered. “All clear.”

“For now,” Adrian amended. “Let’s hope that guy wasn’t an informant.”

Myra raised a fist. “Building sighted. Prep for door breach.”

The building could barely be called one at all. At best it was four crumbling concrete walls, a moldy roof and a rotting door. Almost perfect for hiding. The team began moving into positions but Abby put a hand on Myra’s arm.

“Is a breach really necessary?” she asked. “Aside from intimidation, it doesn’t really provide us with anything.”

“It’s standard procedure,” Myra defended. “Do you have a better idea?”

“Get into position,” she suggested. “Let me talk to him.”

Myra was quiet for a few seconds, then imperceptibly relaxed. “Fine. But if you take a shotgun blast through the door, it’s your own fault.”

“Thank you.” She waited until Myra and Jo were positioned on either side of the door. Adrian and Pete were positioned behind a neighboring wall and trash can, respectively. The sniper had drawn his pistol and taken a position behind Myra. That case on his back must be exhausting for him, he probably positioned himself there so he could get it off as quickly as possible.

Abby rapped on the door a few times. “Mr. Zhang? We’re the extraction team from the UN,” she paused for a second trying to find the right word to finish. “Um, respond?”

“Enter.” A gruff and heavily accented voice answered.

Myra nodded at Jo and Abby stepped back. Myra opened the door and weapon raised, walked in.

Shaojie Zhang was sitting on a dilapidated couch while looking decidedly unimpressed at their entrance. He raised an eyebrow and humped. “So, you are my contacts. I did not believe the United Nations would take my offer seriously. But no one who fears reprisal openly walks around in equipment like that.”

“We’re trying to _avoid_ reprisal,” Myra amended. “But thanks anyway. You claim to have an alien device. I want to see it now.”

“Of course,” Zhang complied and lifted a medium-sized briefcase with what looked like a fingerprint lock. “It won’t take long for them to realize I’m missing,” he warned them while lowering the case. “Especially since I’ve got this _thing_ with me. If you take me with you, it’s all yours.” He finished with an open palmed sweep, the briefcase hanging off his fingers.

 _“That’s our man,”_ Bradford’s told them. _“Bengal Team, gear up Zhang and move to the evac point.”_

“Acknowledged,” Myra responded and motioned the sniper forward who set down the case. “Mr. Zhang, we’re cleared to extract you out of here. For your safety, we need you to don this armor.”

Zhang actually looked slightly surprised at that. “That is…appreciated. I doubted that the United Nations would case for the safety of a known criminal.”

“Thank the Commander,” Jo told him as he started gearing up. “I doubt this was included in the Council’s instructions.”

Abby eyed the briefcase. “Where did you get that thing?”

“I acquired it from my superior, though ‘stole’ is the appropriate word. I’m not sure where he got this thing, but I knew he was taking bidders from a variety of sources, regardless of their intentions.”

 _“Ask him about the Triad’s involvement with the aliens.”_ The Commander ordered.

Myra complied. “Has your boss struck an agreement with the aliens?”

Zhang pulled on his gauntlets. “I am afraid I cannot answer that. He is a practical man and would not make a deal without reason. But once I saw the device, I began to fear the implications. Whatever he gained from the aliens…in even attempting to sell this technology, he has already sold out humanity for his own ambition.” The disgust was plain in his voice.

It was actually kind of amusing. Who would have thought a Chinese criminal would be so…principled? Zhang snapped on his helmet and the sniper handed him a rifle. Myra looked at him with interest.

“Rather noble of you,” she stated, echoed Abby’s sentiment.

He shrugged. “Do not mischaracterize me. I’ve crossed many lines during my life, but now we _all_ face a common enemy.”

Well…despite his background, Zhang didn’t seem like such a bad guy. Although it could just be an act, she doubted it. It wasn’t for her to decide anyway, the Commander would do that.

“You ready?” Myra asked Zhang who gave a curt nod.

“I am.”

Myra pointed at the sniper. “Get on top of that roof,” she pointed to a small building overlooking a graveyard. “I shoot anything suspicious.”

The man gave the Commander’s salute and dashed off to follow his orders. Myra motioned the rest of them forward. “Lock down vocoders and find cover, enter overwatch protocol until my order. Zhang, stay with me.”

Each soldier responded with an affirmative including Zhang.

This was going to have to be perfectly timed. Even when Myra called in the skyranger, it couldn’t stay her unlike other missions since that would only attract fire and possibly strand them. Which meant that they had to almost be at the LZ before calling it in and risk a potential firefight.

Each of them moved up slowly. “Entering overwatch,” Abby informed as she steadied her weapon.

They waited a tense few seconds. “Move forward,” Myra ordered cautiously. “Only take good cover.”

Abby took position behind a column. She was about to utter an affirmation when an unearthly shriek broke out and echoed throughout the area.

Adrian voiced what they were thinking. “What was that?”

Zhang had no doubts. “They’ve come for me.”

“Get into positions!” Myra hissed and each of them rested their rifles on columns or gravestones.

“We’ve got a group of civvies incoming.” Jo muttered and Abby looked to see a trio of suited men, not unlike the one earlier approaching them. They were remarkably similar proportially and their bowler hats made them seem just off the set of some old movie.

“Shoot them!” Zhang insisted. “They’re here to kill us!”

 “Wait,” Myra insisted. “Fire warning shots!”

Abby let loose some fire at their feet and the only response was one of the men peeling his lips back in an imitation of a smile. “They’re still coming…”she yelled hesitantly.

“We’ve got more of them!” Pete warned as another trio of the oddly dressed men entered the graveyard.

“We’re out of time!” Zhang hissed. “Open fire.”

Three consecutive shots rang out in the silent night. Abby looked up to see the sniper reloading his smoking rifle. But what happened next surprised all of them. The “civilian’s” bodies shuddered once and like steam escaping a broken pipe, some green mist gushed out of multiple wounds caused by the escaping mist.

“Open fire!” Myra yelled. The human impersonators gave up the act and withdrew silver plasma weapons with a transparent green strip running along each side. They scampered along through the graveyard and took well covered positions against them.

“Jo! Pete! Abby! Suppression on each individual alien. Me and Zhang will get closer!”

“Copy!” Abby yelled. “Targeting the leftmost one!” The creature seemed to hiss at her as he hunkered to avoid her scathing fire.

The cover of one of the creatures collapsed when Jo poured bullets into it, the alien didn’t even have time to react before it was riddled with bullets.

“Got one!” he yelled.

“Good job!” Myra complemented. “Zhang, get ready to fire. Grenade out!”

With an overhand throw, she landed the grenade right between the covering aliens. They both dashed away but not before one was ripped to shreds. The other scampered away with bullets flying past. “Missed the target.” Zhang muttered in disgust.

Abby did as well. The alien was surprisingly nimble, leaping, flipping and dodging with ease. But she needn’t have worried. Another sniper shot rang out and the creature collapsed to the ground with a clean hole through the heart.

It appeared that the skills of this sniper had not been exaggerated.

“They’re coming down behind us!” Adrian screamed as he pointed to four more aliens, two on each side, leap off a two story building without a moment of hesitation.

“Reposition!” Myra ordered. “Take them out!”

Abby moved to the other side of the column, praying that she wasn’t in range of the other two aliens. Green plasma fire blazed throughout the battlefield. One close blast scorched the grass near her foot. She scowled and return fire.

The sniper was trying to get a good shot, but didn’t seem to be succeeding. Several shots rang out, but only one even grazed the alien. That particular alien responded by thrusting it’s head forward and…spitting? Was it _spitting_ something?

The odd acid green projectile was too fast for him to avoid and right on contact it exploded into the same green mist the aliens exhumed when they died. She saw and opportunity and unloaded everything she had into the briefly exposed alien.

She risked a brief glance at the sniper. Green wisps clung to him and he writhed and shuddered in silent agony. The barrel of his rifle wavered but he steadied it for a brief second then fired. Without making a sound, the recoil blasted him back out of her sight. But his shot was true, the alien was dead.

She looked over at Myra. “We’ve got a man down!” she yelled.

The rest of the squad was currently dealing with the other two aliens, who had been joined by three more. One cloud of mist indicated they’d managed to kill one, but plasma fire rained dangerously close to each of them.

“Take care of him!” Myra ordered as she pinned a hissing alien down. “We’ve got this for now!”

After making sure each alien as occupied, she dashed forward and climbed the ladder to the roof. One of the aliens must have spotted her because plasma fire slammed into the brick walls nearly gutting her. The adrenaline pumped through her as she climbed faster and faster to avoid being torched.

On the top, the sniper was trying to rise and resume his position. She dashed up to him and kneeled. “Hey! Hey! Slow down! I need to treat this!”

He looked up and she could swear he was surprised. Why should he be? Sure, he may have committed terrible crimes, but he didn’t deserve to die now. She unhooked her med-kit. “Ok, this needs to be done quickly. Does it hurt to move?”

He writhed on the ground as she remembered he didn’t speak. She scowled. There wasn’t time for this. “Fine, fine. Nod for yes. Shake for no. Got it? Does it hurt to move?”

One nod.

Alright, that was good and bad. Likely some kind of acid, which she believed the med-kit should fix without issues. The bad news was that it was incredibly painful and she had no idea how he was bearing this silently. But the good was that it was likely mitigated by the armor and probably hadn’t gone past the skin.

“Sorry,” she apologized preemptively. “But I need to sit you up.” She nodded and with a grunt, moved him until he was leaning against the protected wall overlooking the graveyard.

Once he was in position, she placed her hands on his helmet. “Alright, I nee-“ she was abruptly cut off when he grasped her arm with an iron grip. The message was clear.

She’d almost had enough. “What is your problem!?” she hissed. “I’m trying to save your life!” He simply pointed at the med-kit on the ground. In the background, another high-pitched shriek indicated a dead alien.

Abby angrily snatched the med-kit from the ground and aimed it like a weapon at him. It should work regardless, but if something went wrong, he’d likely die of suffocation or the acid would eat into his eyes and brain. “Moron,” she hissed as she sprayed the light blue mist.

The effect was almost instantaneous. The shuddering and writhing stopped and she saw his chest rise and fall several times. A few seconds later he reached for his sniper rifle and rested it on the railing. She looked over to see one of the aliens in a flanked positions.

“You good?” she asked.

One shot. One scream.

“I guess so.” She stated. 

She began moving back down but hesitated. The vantage point up here was clearly superior and a few brief seconds of targeting confirmed that this was an ideal position. With that in mind, she took a position to the sniper’s right.

“Myra, man restored to fighting status. I’m staying up here.”

 _“Yeah, we noticed,”_ Myra’s voice was tense. _“Not a moment too soon. These things just won’t stop coming.”_

Abby unleashed a volley at an alien which struck the grass under it. “Everyone alright?”

_“For the moment. Pete took some damage, but the armor absorbed it. I’ve pulled him back for now.”_

The sniper took another shot that blew out a knee of the alien causing it to stumble to the ground. Abby witnessed Myra finish it off.

“These aliens can shoot some kind of acid or poison,” she informed Myra. “The med-kits fix it, but I’ve only got a few available.”

_“Acknowledged and- Zhang! Watch you left!”_

Abby watched in horror as one of the aliens charged Zhang’s position. The thing ducked and weaved through the ballistic fire with fluid grace and agility. These things just couldn’t be hit! But Zhang was prepared. The alien began aiming but Zhang took the initiative and charged. It hissed in surprise, an expression that was unnerving on a human and clearly tried firing, but Zhang tore the weapon from the alien’s hand and tossed it aside, shattering it in the process.

Zhang slammed the alien to a nearby column and slammed his foot into the knee of the alien which snapped like a wet branch. Even Abby winced at that and the alien let out an unnatural shriek. Zhang continued by grabbing the arm and snapping it at the elbow.

She knew without a doubt he was truly from the Triad. Not many others could do this with such brutal efficiency.

Zhang grabbed the head of the alien and snapped it. The body slumped to the ground, the head at a grotesque angle. Zhang stepped back, rifle raised. Abby waited for the burst of mist but it never came.

 _“Is it dead?”_ Myra demanded as she looked over.

 _“I…don’t-“_ Zhang began, but cut himself off and Abby gasped as the alien raised it’s good hand and snapped it’s arm back into place and reached up and twisted it’s head to the natural position. It made to rise but Zhang unloaded everything he had into it. _Now_ the mist appeared.

 _“Note to self,”_ Zhang muttered, amazingly calm after that. _“Physical combat is…ineffective.”_

 _“We’ve only got one more,”_ Myra shouted. _“Abby! Sniper! Get down here, I’m calling in Burning Sky.”_

The sniper motioned her to exit first which she did. Halfway down, she heard an agonized _human_ scream. _“Jo! Status!”_ Myra demanded.

_“Hit my arm-gahh! Hunkering down.”_

“On my way!” Abby shouted as she leapt the final rungs to the ground. Making sure there was no fire coming her way, she dashed to Jo’s position. She skidded to him and pulled out her med-kit.

Well, good news, she wouldn’t have to remove any armor. Bad news was that a good portion of his forearm was almost burned away to the bone. “This is going to sting!” she warned as she held the med-kit over the raw and bubbling wound. “Here,” she extended her hand to his which he grasped, nearly crushing hers.

She sprayed and he screamed as the blue mist settled over the wound. She stopped after a few seconds and was amazed to see a transparent covering over the wound. It wasn’t exactly regenerating the skin, but it was protecting it.”

The gunfire abruptly stopped. Abby looked up to the roar of a skyranger overhead. She, along with Pete and a subdued Jo let out a cheer at the sight.

“Alright!” Myra reloaded her weapon. “We’re making a run for it! _Do not stop_! Understood?”

“Yes, Overseer!” They yelled and the skyranger set down and the ramp deployed.

“Go!”

Each of them dashed to the skyranger and within thirty seconds, each of them were on board.

_“This is Burning Sky to Citadel Command. Bengal Team has the package and is secure. Returning to the Citadel now._

Then the Commander’s voice broke in. _“Excellent job, Bengal Team. I look forward to personally congratulating each of you when you return. Citadel Command, out.”_

Abby finally let herself breath. It was done. Everyone was alive, barely. She cast a sidelong glance at Zhang. He was useful and had information XCOM needed, but she hoped that he was worth it.

And the mysterious sniper also weighed on her mind. Who was he? Why didn’t he speak? What was his story? She’d saved his life, surely that warrant _some_ explanation. Perhaps the Commander knew more about him.

She shook her head. Questions for later.

Now she just wanted to sleep.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Fractured Dragon

_Personnel:_

Bengal 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Specialist Myra Rodriguez

            **Status:** Active

 **Recorded Kills:** 4  
            Bengal 2 - Specialist Abby Gertrude

            **Status:** Active

 **Recorded Kills:** 2  
            Bengal 3 – Specialist Pete Chandler

            **Status:** Active

 **Recorded Kills:** 3  
            Bengal 4 – Private Adrian Francis

            **Status:** Active

 **Recorded Kills:** 2  
            Bengal 5 - Private Jo Simon

            **Status:** Wounded (7 Days)

 **Recorded Kills:** 2  
            Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Riley Ignis – Call sign: “Burning Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

N/A

_Personnel Retrieved:_

Shaojie Zhang - VIP

                                             

 

 

 

 


	13. Satellite Deployment

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

“I’m not turning him over.”

The Commander crossed his arms as if preparing to defend against the rest of the Internal Council. He’d summoned them as soon as Bengal Team had touched down. He wasn’t going to change his mind easily, but if anyone had an issue, they’d better say it right away.

He’d done his research on Zhang thanks to the UN files on him and this had gone from a principal issue to a military one. He had specific plans for Zhang now and he was not going to let the Council deprive him of a potential resource.

“In principal, I agree,” Bradford nodded slowly. “But the Speaker seemed rather…insistent.”

The Commander snorted. “Of course she did. That woman has disliked me since I took this position.”

Vahlen frowned. “Why? Do you know her?”

“No. But I know exactly what her issue is with me. It’s because of my past.”

“Ah,” Vahlen nodded in understanding. “Have you explained to her that you weren’t responsible for everything _he_ did?”

If only she knew. As it was now, this lie was making his life difficult now. “It’s politics, Vahlen,” he explained, not quite able to keep the bitterness out. “Of course she hasn’t _said_ that she doesn’t like me, but it’s pretty obvious from her tone and the stuff she’s tried to pull. And one thing I’ve learned about people? You can’t change emotionally clouded people’s minds with _reason_.”

“ _Tried_ to pull?” Bradford noted, cocking his head. “Has she done something before?”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, she did. When I contacted the Council after we shot down the UFO she actually told me to stand down and let the _UN_ handle it.”

Bradford features contorted in surprise. “Was she serious? The Council, or UN for that matter have no jurisdiction in this area. That’s why _we_ exist.”

“Looking back on it now,” the Commander admitted. “I’m thinking it was more of a test to see what I would do if pressed. I’m assuming that the Councilors informed her of her…error, and dismissed it.”

“Back to the topic at hand,” Shen interrupted. “If I may ask something, why are you so insistent we protect this man?”

The Commander grimaced. “For the very simple reason that we made a deal and I honor those. It begins there. We promised him sanctuary if he delivered the alien device and he held up his end of the bargain. What does it say about us if we say thanks by throwing him in prison?”

Shen sighed and rubbed his forehead. “You make a good point. One I can’t really disagree with. But the Council is the one who made that deal and they want to break it. Technically, we aren’t going back on our word.”

The Commander’s eyes hardened. “I have not, and never will, use that as an excuse. If the Council wanted to do this, they should have sent their own team in and not asked us.”

“What a mess.” Vahlen commented, rubbing her eyes.

“Agreed,” Shen nodded sadly. “But in this case a choice has to be made here. Regardless of principals, the Council does have a point about Zhang. He _is_ a notorious criminal with a record filled with some…well, terrible stuff. He doesn’t even hide it. Do we really want to fight the Council over someone like that?”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “Remember that _I_ could also be considered a criminal.”

“You don’t really count,” Vahlen pointed out. “You defected and anything you did was over a decade ago. The Council wouldn’t have placed you in charge if they didn’t trust you.”

He almost burst out laughing. Trust? Trust _him_? No, the only reason the Council had even considered him was because they legitimately thought he was the only one capable of defending Earth. Even then he still had people conspiring to remove him. It was nice of Vahlen, but terribly, terribly, inaccurate.

“It isn’t just that,” He admitted. “Zhang is an opportunity we can’t afford to pass up.”

Shen frowned. “Explain.”

The Commander eyes bored into them, trying to convince them. “Zhang has extensive military and espionage experience. Ignoring where he used his talents, he could do a lot of good if we focused them in the right direction.”

Shen’s mouth dropped open. “You want to recruit him?”

Even Vahlen was skeptical. “Are you sure that is…wise? Especially given his past?”

Bradford took a step back, he opened his mouth to speak when his expression slowly changed as it dawned on him what the Commander was thinking. His mouthed formed an “Oh…” and he stayed silent.

He was going to have to be very convincing. Bradford would probably not be an issue, Vahlen could be swayed. It was Shen who would provide the most pushback, as usual. 

“We’re not talking about a low-level thug,” He explained. “Zhang was nearly at the top of the Triad. People that high usually have personalities similar to officers than criminals. I’ve worked with men like him before, I doubt we have anything to fear from him.”

“Is that what you base this on?” Vahlen asked. “You _think_ we can trust him? Can we really take that risk?”

“I was skeptical,” the Commander admitted. “I doubted that a member of the Triad would actually defect. You have to understand the culture there. You don’t just _leave_ the Triad when you feel like it. People have died for less than that. But he defected when he had no reason too _and_ brought us the alien device. True defectors are rare. We need to take advantage of the ones that are. And frankly, we need everyone we can get.”

“I feel that the soldier’s reactions are going to be a bigger problem,” Bradford noted. “I can already anticipate suspicion and resentment from some of them.”

“As long as he performs well, he’ll be viewed with suspicion at worst,” the Commander dismissed. “Soldiers care more about results than background. I’ve never had to worry about insubordination before and I don’t see any reason believe it will change now.”

“But we have the Council,” Shen reminded him. “Refusing to hand him over would start a fight we can’t afford right now.”

“I think that’s a risk we should take,” the Commander said slowly. “I’ve seen two different sides of the Council. One in support of us, the other against.” He nodded at Bradford. “You’ve witnessed that latter. The Council is divided right now. We need to begin moving ourselves into a position to not need them in the future. Zhang is a necessary step in achieving that.”

“How could _that_ possibly be?” Shen demanded.

So he told them.

Shen was clearly surprised he’d even consider that, but Vahlen’s eyes lit up in revelation. “That’s…well, brilliant. We accomplish two things at once.”

“Shall we put it to a vote?” the Commander asked. “In favor?” he, Vahlen and Bradford raised their hands.

“Opposed?” he looked at Shen, who raised his hand regardless.

“It’s decided then.” He went to his chair and sat down. “I’ll speak with Zhang and address the Council. I’ll also be down soon with each of you to discuss our progress so far. Dismissed.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Research Labs_

“Pretty self-explanatory,” Abby explained as she motioned with her hand to the glass doors. “Research labs. They’re always working on one project or another. If things go well, they could soon be making a breakthrough in weapons tech.”

Despite his imposing figure, Zhang was a very polite and courteous man to be around. After landing at the Citadel, he asked if it would be alright for him to walk around. Bradford had agreed, but only with an escort. She had admittedly volunteered because she was interested in his work, but she was actually enjoying herself. Despite everything going on, XCOM had some truly amazing things, things she took for granted until showing them off to someone new.

Zhang was a clearly reserved man, so it was telling how often she was able to elicit _some_ kind of reaction, even if it was small. Zhang crossed his armored arms. “Have your scientists developed much for you?”

She shrugged. “Well, admittedly not much. At least after the fighting started. They spent a large amount of time on the alien corpses. That helped with some software upgrades but not much else. But they were instrumental in creating our smoke grenades, med-kits and armor.”

Zhang tapped his. “They should be commended. I have not worn better.”

“You’ve worn a lot?” she probed.

“Enough,” was his curt reply. She inwardly sighed. No matter how often she tried, he refused to admit more than basic details of his past. He likely had good reasons, but that didn’t help her curiosity. Still, she knew when to back off.

“So I think that’s everything,” she finished, turning to face him. Even with her armored, she still was still a good six inches shorter than him. It was slightly disconcerting, as she was used to talking with people at eye-level.

“Is it?” he asked, with a frown. “There is no control room? Or at least something similar?”

She smiled. “Oh, yeah there is. I think it’s called the Situation Room. Sorry, not authorized to take you there. I guess I forgot the Commander’s Office too.”

Zhang cocked his head. “Your Commander. Tell me, what is your opinion of him?”

She was silent for a few seconds. “I’m thinking you’re asking the wrong person,” she admitted. “Honestly, I’ve only been in anything remotely military for the past month or so. I’m just a doctor that happens to be fighting now.”

Zhang shook his head. “Perhaps. But I asked you what you thought about _him_. Not his tactics.”

She sighed. “You really want my honest opinion.”

He nodded gravely. “I do.”

She braced herself. “I don’t know. I’ve admittedly not spent too much time with him, but I’ve heard from friends that he’s a very personable man. Someone you can, no- _want_ to talk to. Charismatic is the best word to describe it. And honestly, I can believe that. I _want_ to believe that.”

“So why don’t you?” Zhang asked, sounding puzzled.

“Umm,” Abby asked hesitantly. “First, one question. Did the Triad, uh, follow world events at all?”

Zhang seemed to almost crack a smile at that. “Is there a reason why we wouldn’t?”

Abby had the mental image of a group of Triad members sitting around the TV watching CNN and shook her head at the bizarre image. “Never mind. I assume you know who the Commander was?”

“Ah,” Zhang turned serious again. “Yes. I do. We followed his exploits closely. He was one of the only forces in history to truly give the Triad pause.”

So even the Triad had been scared of him. “You were that worried?”

Zhang’s cold eyes looked into hers. “The Dragon Head himself dismantled any and all operations around the Middle East to avoid attracting his attention. So yes, we were worried.”

“Anyway,” she continued. “Our commander once worked for him.”

Zhang raised his eyebrows, which was a close as he got to showing surprise. “I’m surprised he is still alive. Let alone running an organization like this.”

“So yeah,” she finished. “That’s where most of my uncertainty comes from. I know what those people did and even if he did defect, he likely did terrible things.”

“Has he not made up for them at this point?” Zhang questioned.

She sighed. “Probably. But still, I can’t just forget something like that.”

Zhang opened his mouth to respond but was preemptively interrupted by the loudspeaker. “ _Specialist Gertrude, please escort Mr. Zhang to the Commander’s office.”_

They both exchanged a look. “I guess you’re going to see the office after all,” she informed him marching that direction. “Come on. This way.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

The blinking light indicated people outside his office. Zhang and Abby. He thumbed the door open and motioned them to come in. Both were still armored and bore serious expressions. Abby appeared apprehensive, the calm mask she wore didn’t quite hide her increased breathing and dilated pupils. Interesting.

Abby saluted and he rose.

He nodded at her. “At ease, Specialist Gertrude.” She put down her hand, but stayed in place. “Thank you for escorting Zhang,” he continued. “Dismissed.”

“Actually sir,” she began in a rush. “I was wondering if I could speak to you afterwards.”

He raised an eyebrow. Not what he expected, but not an issue. “Certainly. I’ll bring you in after I speak with Zhang.”

She nodded. “Thank you, sir.” She spun on her heel and marched out of his office.

The Commander motioned at the chair opposite him. “Take a seat, Mr. Zhang.”

Zhang inclined his head. “Appreciated…I presume Commander will suffice?”

“It will.”

“Your hospitality is appreciated, Commander.” Zhang stated as he sat down. “Most are not so welcoming.”

The Commander rested his arms on the desk. “You helped us. Your past is not an issue for me provided it does not become one. Should I worry?”

Zhang shook his head. “The life I had is gone now. Once I turned my back on old friends, I knew that I was never going to return. I am likely marked for death now.”

The Commander gave a small smile. “I’m assuming that this wasn’t how you thought your career would play out.”

Zhang gave the ghost of a smile. “No. Funny isn’t it? How life could take such an unexpected turn.”

The Commander thought back on recent events and had to agree. “Very true.”

There was silence for a few seconds. The Commander folded his hands and leaned forward. “By fulfilling your end of the deal, you’ve placed me in a difficult position. The Council has asked that I turn you over to them for trial and incarceration.”

Zhang didn’t look even remotely surprised. “I see.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Zhang’s tone turned hard and his eyes filled with smoldering anger. “I am not,” he stated. “It is well known that the United Nations despises the Triad and anyone involved with them.”

“Not without reason,” the Commander pointed out. “You _are_ criminals, by definition.”

“We break the laws set forth by our _corrupt_ and _stifling_ government,” Zhang defended. “So, yes. We are criminals. But the common citizen does not have cause to fear us. The only ones who do govern the so called “People’s Republic” as well as those who cross us.”

“I would be more inclined to believe you if you limited your operations to strictly China,” the Commander answered. “As it stands, the Triad is an international organization. I don’t think you can make the whole “this is only against the government” argument.” The Commander raised a hand cutting off any response. “But that is a discussion for another time. So if you knew you couldn’t trust the UN, why even come to them?”

“Because I knew something the rest of my peers refused to accept,” Zhang answered coldly. “This alien invasion affects the entire human race. If they succeed, everything we know will be destroyed. I didn’t have much hope for myself, but if the device I found could help stop this invasion, I considered it worth the risk.”

“Noble,” the Commander commented. “More than they deserve. Though I’m personally grateful you did. Shen believes it’s an encoder or transmitter or some kind. Thanks to you, we may now be able to crack into alien communications.”

Zhang inclined his head. “I’m pleased that you found a use for it.”

“So am I. That is one reason I’m not turning you over to the UN.”

Zhang cocked his head and frowned. “I imagine your superiors will be displeased.”

“I believe about half of the Council will be furious at me,” the Commander answered dismissively. “But they made the mistake of using me and making a deal with you. I don’t break deals, nor do I punish those who help.”

“Still,” Zhang leaned forward. “I know that the United Nations are not to be trifled with.”

The Commander snorted. “The UN is, and always has been, a symbolic organization devoid of any power. They give the illusion of unity, they pass resolutions that “affect” the world. They write laws that they don’t enforce. They take money from criminals they publically despise. No, the so-called “United” Nations only has some power over me and that is funding. They’ll certainly threaten to pull it, but they won’t because _I_ am the only one who is working to stop this invasion.”

Zhang actually cracked a smile at that. “You may claim to have defected from the Commander, but you seem to have adopted some of his views.”

“The Commander may have been wrong on some issues,” he admitted. “But his view of the UN is one I fully believe in.”

“While I may agree with you,” Zhang said. “I would not disregard them completely.”

The Commander’s eyes glinted. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not.” He was quiet for a few seconds and leaned back. “What is your opinion on XCOM?”

“Your organization is impressive,” Zhang complimented. “Your equipment is better than anything I have encounters, your soldiers are well trained, and you seem to be a competent leader. Though given your goal, I’d expect nothing less.”

The Commander nodded. “Thank you.”

“In fact,” Zhang leaned forward. “I’m curious if there would be a position for me here?”

The Commander cocked his head. “You want to join XCOM.” It was a statement.

Zhang nodded. “I have no life to return to. Not to mention the United Nations will likely catch me later, even if you do not turn me over. I gave up everything to fight this alien threat and I want to continue doing so.”

“And what position would you like exactly?” the Commander asked, not betraying anything. “A squad overseer position? Leadership?”

“I realize that your soldiers may not trust me,” Zhang admitted. “I would like a chance to earn it, even if it means starting out at the bottom.”

He was impressed. That level of selflessness was exactly what he needed right now. He now had no doubts about his decision.

“Commendable,” the Commander nodded. “In most normal circumstances, I would likely agree. Some people are going to mistrust you, perhaps undeserved, perhaps not. But these are not normal circumstances. We are in a war for our survival and there is no time for false modesty.”

Zhang raised an eyebrow, but otherwise remained silent. The Commander continued.

“I feel that you would do well as a soldier, but frankly, I consider that a waste of your abilities. I’m aware of your position, you have extensive experience in military and espionage operations and that is what I need right now.”

Zhang frowned. “What are you asking of me?”

The Commander leaned forward. “XCOM lacks one final department before I consider it complete. An intelligence department. So I have a counter-offer for you, Zhang. I want you to be Director of XCOM Intelligence.”

Zhang blinked and shook his head slightly. That alone spoke to the volume of his shock. “You are certain you want to ask me this?” he asked incredulously.

The Commander nodded. “I am. It won’t be easy. You will essentially be starting from nothing. You’d have to recruit your own operatives and personnel. But you will have complete autonomy. As long as you manage your people fairly, I will not interfere.”

Zhang inclined his head. “You honor me.”

“So,” the Commander gave a slight smile. “Do you accept?”

Zhang nodded. “It would be my pleasure and honor

The Commander gave a satisfied smile, rose, and extended a hand which Zhang took. “Welcome to XCOM, Intelligence Director Zhang.”

* * *

 

With her arms crossed, Abby rested against the wall as she waited for the Commander to finish his meeting with Zhang. Even though she’d been expecting it, it was still surprising that he had agreed so quickly and hadn’t even seemed surprised. She supposed that was why he was the Commander and she was not.

She was curious what they were discussing in there. Who wouldn’t be? She suspected Zhang was going to be joining XCOM, or at least make an offer. That _had_ to be the reason he’d requested a tour and kept asking questions about the organization. She was fairly certain the Commander would accept. Well, even if he was a criminal, he didn’t seem _too_ bad.

She sighed. This was bizarre. What was wrong with her? She was actually thinking that Zhang, and for that matter, the Commander, weren’t so bad, despite what they’d done. Why the sudden change for her? Was it because she’d talked with them? That they seemed…well, like people?

It honestly was something she’d never considered before-that the people who were typically vilified were just that- _people_. They had thoughts, emotions, and even reasons behind their actions. She scowled. It had been much simpler when she’d known who was objectively good or bad. But as she kept finding out, the truth was far more gray.

She heard a hiss and the door opened. Zhang walked out looking oddly excited. He had an energy in his eyes that had been absent before. She pushed herself up from the wall. “I take it went well?” she asked as she walked over.

Still reserved, Zhang gave a brief nod. “Yes, it did.”

“So, you part of XCOM now?” She asked knowingly. His head jerked back in a brief moment of surprise. She smiled. “Come on. I knew you had some interest. Why else ask me all those questions?”

“You are observant,” he noted slowly. “I will remember that.”

She sighed. “Just because I pay attention does _not_ mean I’m observant. So, where’d he put you?”

“XCOM Intelligence.”

She frowned. She hadn’t even know there _was_ such a thing. “I didn’t even know that was a division we had.”

Zhang looked down. “Yes, it’s a…recent development.”

“Well congratulations,” she said genuinely.

“The Commander also told me he’s ready to speak with you,” Zhang informed her. “I would not wait to long.”

That was probably a good idea. “Agreed. Thanks, Zhang. See you around.” With a final wave, she walked into the Commander’s office.

The door closed behind her with a hiss and she paused before continuing further. The Commander was viewing a map of the world on a monitor behind his desk and had his back to her. She stood there awkwardly, not quite sure what to do.

“Come up here, Specialist.” She started at his voice, kinda unnerved that he’d know she was there without her saying anything. Still she complied and walked up by him. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stood with a military precision. Despite that, she was nearly eye level with him, though that was at least partially due to her armor.

“The dots are the alien abductions we’ve recorded so far,” the Commander explained, pointing to the screen. “The squares are UFO sightings. Do you see any pattern?”

She looked at the map, trying desperately to come up with something. It would be mortifying to screw this up. “I really don’t see anything between the abductions and sightings,” she began slowly. “But there seem to be a lot of sightings around Germany.”

“Which likely means that something is going to happen soon,” he commented. “What it is, I don’t know.” He looked at her. “But you wanted to speak to me about something. What is it?”

She took a breath. Here it went. “I have concerns about one of your soldiers.”

He frowned. “I think you’re going to have to be more specific.”

She scowled. “Well, the thing is, I don’t know his name. He doesn’t show up on the AA reports either.”

“Ah,” the Commander nodded in remembrance. “I know who. Specialization: sniper, black armor, doesn’t speak. That who you’re talking about?”

“Yes,” she nodded emphatically. “You described him perfectly.”

He turned fully to face her. “So what is your issue? Has he caused problems?”

She hesitated. “Not…yet. But I see it posing an issue in the future. He can’t be an effective squad member and keep up his mute act.”

“Why not?” he sounded more curious than anything.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the field, it’s that communication is important,” she attempted to explain. “We constantly keep each other updated on what we see. I’m worried someday that we’re all going to miss something which he sees and someone’s going to die because he didn’t mention it.”

“A valid complaint,” the Commander acknowledged. “But one I wouldn’t worry about.”

“Why not?” She demanded.

“He has other ways of drawing attention,” he reminded her. “Namely the weapons he carries. He would die before letting anything happen to the squad.”

She crossed her arms. “Who _is_ he?”

He cocked his head. “I’m guessing you haven’t asked him?”

“Actually, I did try,” she defended. “But, as I’m sure you’re aware, he isn’t exactly a very social person. I tried to find him after we landed and he was nowhere to be found.”

“That sounds about right,” the Commander nodded. “But what is _your_ interest in him.”

“Well…” she paused. “We’re probably going to be working together and we need to figure out _some_ system of communication so neither of us dies. But that’s hard to do when I can’t find him or know anything about him.”

The Commander looked into her eyes. “I see. Very well, I’ll tell you some things. His name is something I’ll keep to myself, but he is a friend and we worked together for many years.”

“So…” she continued that train of thought. “Both of you worked for _that_ Commander.”

“We did,” he said solemnly. “As far as I know, he stayed by the Commander till the end. Or maybe he left. He hasn’t said. But either way, I saw his name in an English prison and requested his release.”

“Why?”

“Because he was my friend,” he shrugged. “And because he is objectively the best sniper in the world. As I’m sure you can attest to.” She actually could. If nothing else, he was an unmatched marksman.

“Is he actually mute?” she asked. “Or is it self-imposed?”

The Commander cracked the barest of smiles at that. “Every time I’ve asked, he claims that his voice is perfectly fine. Though at this point I’m inclined to believe he’s lying or that he just doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“How _do_ you communicate with him?” Abby asked.

“I just talk to him normally,” the Commander shrugged. “He’s not stupid. He’ll get his point across fairly easily. In the field we used hand signals and other visual cues.”

She made a mental note of that. “So where does he live in the meantime? Between missions?”

“Don’t know,” he stated dismissively. “I’m sure he’s found some obscure corner to sleep, if he even does. The only schedule he consistently keeps is his nightly visits to the range between three and five. It’s always deserted. If you really want to talk to him, he’s likely to be there.”

She mentally groaned. Of course it would be some ungodly hour in the morning. She sighed. “Thanks.”

“I’d be careful with him,” the Commander warned. “He secludes himself for a reason. Remember that.”

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I will.”

He nodded. “Glad to hear it. Anything else?”

She hesitated. “May I ask you a personal question?”

He seemed to know where this was going as the corners of his lips turned up. “Certainly.”

“When you were…involved with _that_ Commander, uh, just what _were_ you involved in?”

“What do you want as an answer?” he asked, curious. “Operation names? Deeds I did? People I killed? That’s a broad question.”

“The truth.”

He gave a grim smile. “I like that answer. Though I’m not sure you will. Very well, I was involved in the Children of Allah “Incident,” multiple town raids including the so-called “Nile Standoff.” I was the one to personally execute the Speaker of the Caliphate and his disciples.”

Hearing those atrocities said so plainly was jarring for her. He stated them with no more emotion than describing the weather. She resisted taking a step back, instead only managing “I see.”

His lips turned to a humorless smile. “I doubt it. There are some things you can only understand by participating in them. Tell me something, Abby. Where were you during the war?”

“In med-school.” She answered.

“You didn’t fight in the war then.”

“Well, no. Of course not.”

He crossed his arms. “I think many people like to believe the worst in others, especially when they receive their information from only one source. Knowing both sides, it would be a mistake to assume that all the people under the Commander were heartless terrorists, nor is it wise to assume that those acts were performed out of malice or sadism.”

“What would you call them then?” Abby demanded. “’For the Greater Good?’”

“ _Tactics_ ,” the Commander corrected. “The word is _tactics_. The goal was to terrify the Caliphate. Any and all methods were deemed acceptable. The Commander knew that the only message that would resonate was one of terror. And like it or not, it worked.”

Abby was silent for a few seconds trying to process everything he had said. “Do you regret what you did?”

He looked her in the eye. “There were some things that could have been done differently, sure. But the people I fought and killed didn’t deserve to live. Did the Commander go too far? Eventually, that’s why I left. But do I regret what _I_ did. No. I do not.”

“At least you’re honest.” Abby managed.

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “Am I going to have to live with your eternal condemnation now?”

Abby was silent. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I really need to think.”

He nodded. “Go ahead. I hope I explained myself sufficiently.”

“Thank you,” she told him sincerely. “That you said anything at all is important.”

“I don’t like keeping secrets,” he told her, a strange, almost wistful tone in his voice. “It’s important that people know that.”

She took a step back and saluted. “Thank you for your time, Commander. I’ll speak with you soon.”

He gave his customary salute in response. “Be well and prepared. You may be needed soon.”

With that she walked out the door. He mind trying to process all that had been said.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

The pain was worse today.

The good days were the equivalent of a bad sunburn.

During the bad ones, she was back under the scalpel.

She would bear it as she bore all the others, with a stoic and emotionless exterior. The alternative was ending her pain once and for all. But she would never submit to her baser instincts. Too much work was left for that to even be an option.

Mira Vauner laid in her bunk, flat on her back, her fingers laced and resting on her chest. Sleep was a commodity that she’d learned not to rely on. This led to her not always being able to fall asleep when time was permitting. Which could be considered a blessing in disguise. If she couldn’t sleep, the nightmares wouldn’t come. She wouldn’t relive her torture in vivid detail, she wouldn’t see husband’s throat slit or her comrade’s eyes removed with a rusty spoon.

Most people considered a vivid mind a blessing. She wasn’t so sure. Her excellent memory helped her excel at her work. But there were things that she wished she could forget. There were thoughts, feelings and memories that wouldn’t leave her. The moments that shaped her haunted her dreams.

Sleep impossible, she listened.

A few of the soldiers were having a conversation at the table in the center of the room. She recognized a few of the voices, Patricia, Luke, Jo, Myra and Liam as well as a few others she couldn’t place. While low, the conversation was loud enough to wash over her. Words entered and left her mind like flowing water, an analogy that helped with the pain on days like this.

“So did the sniper actually say anything this time?”

Mira’s eyes snapped open on that. Though she never said anything, the mysterious sniper was a subject of interest to her. Some of the things she’d heard had been intriguing. Patricia had said that sentence and…it sounded like Myra was answering.

“Nope, not a word. He followed orders and everything, but there was something off about him.”

“Unsurprising,” Patricia’s voice. “This is a guy that has a crucifix on his collar. Of course something’s off about him.”

There was clear suspicion in Myra’s voice. “Yeah…I wasn’t taking any chances with a psycho like that. One false move and he wouldn’t be moving again.”

Mira’s lips tightened at that. So she was one of _those_ people. The self-righteous armchair military generals who were _so_ convinced that they were morally superior to everyone else. Psycho? She’d seen true psychos and it didn’t sound like this man was one of them.

Luke’s voice interrupted. “Come on, Myra. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think.”

“Sorry, but anyone who wears the brand of a terrorist is automatically suspicious to me.”

“Could someone explain this to me?” Jo’s voice. “I was born too early to really understand all these references to terrorism and the Commander? I feel like I’m missing out.”

Mira got up. This conversation was something she was not going to miss. There was a good chance the morally righteous were going to distribute their propaganda and she was not going to stand for it. Not this time. Making sure her hood was up, she took a seat at the corner of the room and observed the group.

Patricia exchanged a look with Myra. “You want to start.”

She shrugged. “Sure.” She leaned forward. “Ok, so you know who the Commander was, right?”

Jo shrugged. “I’ve heard the stories. A war criminal who did whatever it took to fight terrorism. I know about Mecca, but not much else.”

“That is a very generous description,” Myra commented. “Ok. First off, the world was _very_ different around ten or so years ago. Terrorism was fairly rampant and it wasn’t uncommon for three or more terror attacks to take place a year per major country.”

“How was that not dealt with?” Jo demanded. “That’s insane.”

“The police and military were ill-equipped to handle this new threat,” Myra explained. “You can’t treat terrorists like a usual enemy. They can blend in, they could be everywhere and this was _amid_ a privacy clash in the United States.”

“It was in England too,” Patricia added. “There was a lot of backlash against government databases and Intelligence agencies. A fact that was exploited.”

Myra shook her head. “Anyway, there were two events that most people accept were the reason for the Commander’s appearance. The Sears Tower bombing and the formation of the Caliphate.”

Jo folded his hand. “I’ll assume you’re going to explain what that is.”

“I can answer that,” Liam broke in. “The caliph is believed to be the successor to Muhammad. The caliphate is the area that is ruled by the caliph. It’s not something done every day and the caliph is believed to represent the entirety of the Muslim people. Four major terror group joined forces and established the Caliph and in turn, the Caliphate.”

“So they essentially declared themselves a country?” Jo declared hesitantly.

“Sort of,” Liam clarified. “They took control of a large portion of the Middle East, and with the backing of Saudi Arabia, became firmly entrenched there.”

“It was never proven that Saudi Arabia backed them,” Myra pointed out. “Everyone only thinks that because the Commander devastated their capital and oil fields.”

Liam shot her a skeptical look. “Please. Everyone knows they had been funding them for years. Everyone only overlooked that because they had oil.”

Mira nodded at that. Good for him. Myra continued. “Anyway, the Caliphate soon declared a holy war on the rest of the world, most of whom ignored them for the most part. For good reason too, they were more or less contained and they really couldn’t do much damage. The United Nations wasn’t interested in a war that would leave thousands of innocents dead.”

“But these terrorists _were_ killing people.” Jo stated with a frown.

Myra sighed. “The answer is complicated. A lot of people believe that they would have died out soon. Others say that they only would have grown in power. I don’t know. But what _did_ happen was bad all around.”

“The first strike of the Commander was in a small village controlled by the Caliphate,” Patricia began. “Witnesses from the village tell of armed men invading and killing anyone who even _slightly_ moved against them. When asked who did it, most of them, who didn’t speak much English, just gave a generic answer. “The Commander,” was what they used to describe the one who lead their liberation.”

Soon after a video surfaced online showing a masked man warning that a war on the Caliphate and terrorism was near. Most people, myself included, didn’t really pay much attention. He actually got quite a bit of support for his liberation, though his fame was short lived.”

“So what happened?” Jo asked.

“Aabis happened,” Myra answered. “He was a child soldier. One of the faces of the Caliphate. He was a master recruiter and had a small army of child soldiers under him. The so-called “Children of Allah.” His soldiers were regarded as fanatical and suicidal. Cities fell to them easily because of a UN mandate that forbade the killing of child soldiers unless in absolute self-defense.”

“So the Commander decided to intervene.” Jo guessed.

Myra nodded. “Correct. Aabis had just captured a city and was in the process of converting the inhabitants when the Commander struck.”

“And he killed them?” Jo guessed.

“He _crucified_ them,” Myra corrected. “Each and every child soldier, alive or dead, was hung on a cross and in the center was Aabis himself. Based on the autopsy, most people believe that he was interrogated before he was crucified. When the nearby Egyptian army entered the town, most of the child soldiers were still alive. There was no way to save them, so they ended their suffering with a shot to the head.”

Jo leaned back. “Damn. Brutal.”

“That was when people started questioning the Commander’s methods,” Myra agreed. “The Caliphate was furious and even the UN gave a roundabout condemnation. The attacks were stepped up and the Caliphate expanded.”

“Most militaries were reluctant to stop them because they often used civilians as human shield,” Patricia picked up. “That was also a problem that the Commander soon overcame.”

“The first time he conquered a town,” Myra continued. “There wasn’t any collateral damage because the terrorists were too surprised that they were being attacked at all. The second time it happened, they threatened to shoot the hostages. Turned out they didn’t have to, the Commander ordered the hostages shot themselves and soon captured the terrorists. It became a trademark of his. Every time a village was liberated, at least some of the terrorists were found crucified. It wasn’t long before the Commander adopted the symbol for himself.”

“What really put him on people’s radars was his massacre at the Caliphate’s capital,” Patricia continued. “No one knows how he did it, but he murdered the majority of the civilian population in their sleep, including the Caliph’s family.”

“So he killed…”

“The children, the women, he left the soldiers alive including the Caliph. No one knows why.”

What an ignorant statement. “Killing the Caliph would only make him a martyr,” everyone turned to look at Mira. “The Commander was smart enough to avoid that. The goal was to break the _will_ of the Caliphate, not their armies.”

Myra waved a hand dismissively. “Well, he did that and earned the Caliphate’s eternal wrath. Not that he cared. At this point, quite a few people were calling for him to stop. The situation was coming under control. People were starting to flee the Caliphate-“

“ _Because_ of the Commander.” Mira interrupted.

_“-because_ they realized that the Caliphate was broken.” Myra continued. “A lot of people think that this was when the Caliphate started to fall.”

Mira burst out laughing. It was a tone devoid of any joy or emotion. Myra frowned. “Is something funny?”

“You’re wrong,” Mira told her. “The war only escalated from there. The Caliphate made a push towards Iran and Syria. They left a path of destroyed towns along the way.”

“Oh yes,” Myra nodded sagely. “I remember now. To stop their advance, the Commander razed the towns housing their soldiers. Not to mention the civilians caught in the blasts.”

“If he hadn’t acted, Iraq would have fallen.” Mira stated firmly. “The Commander was the only reason why Iraq had enough time to fortify their cities.”

Myra eyes her suspiciously. “You sound like you actually _approve_ of what he did.”

“Because I do.”

There were several intakes of breath and surprised glances her way. Myra stood up and crossed her arms. “So, you support the murder of civilians and children? Good to know.”

A common accusation. “Their deaths were unfortunate, but necessary.”

Myra’s eyes widened. “ _Necessary_? It was necessary that people were killed for no reason other than being in the wrong place at the wrong time? It was necessary that children were killed simply because of their parents? It was necessary that people had nails driven through their hands and feet and left to die a slow, painful death?”

“It was necessary because people were _dying_ and no one was doing anything to stop it!” Mira shot back. “I hear people like you demonize the Commander, but where were was your _condemnation_ of the terrorist massacring villages when they refused to convert? Where was your _outrage_ when the terrorists were raping the young women they took as captives? Where is your righteous _fury_ for untold thousands who died under an executioner’s blade?”

“Oh, I feel all that.” Myra defended.

“Then why do you direct all your hate towards the only man who _did_ something!?”

“Because,” Myra continued. “Believe it or not the _way_ people accomplish goals is important! If we just adopt our enemies’ tactics, how are we _any_ better than them?! I don’t condone anything the Caliphate did, but I’m not going to blindly endorse the Commander’s war crimes simply because he performed them against equally terrible people!”

Mira curled her lips. “You’re a coward. Those terrorists didn’t deserved any courtesy, they knew that the countries lacked the stomach to fight them. They _relied_ on people like you to wage war. It was people like _you_ who urged peace with the terrorists. It was people like _you_ whose apathy led to their rise.”

“Fine,” Myra snapped. “I admit it. I have principles. I have morals and don’t change them simply because I hate the other side. The Caliphate would have been defeated without the Commander. Don’t suggest that he’s the only reason we’re not speaking Arabic today.”

“And how many would have died so your conscience would be satisfied?” Mira demanded. “What would it have taken for the UN to actually _do_ something?”

“I don’t know where you get your information,” Myra snapped. “But the UN wasn’t sitting idle-“

“I was _there_ ,” Mira interrupted. “And all I remember was the UN complaining about how the Commander was fighting the Caliphate. They actually had the nerve to suggest that _he_ was to blame for their rapid expansion.”

“He probably was,” Myra nodded. “What do you expect when you push a group of fanatics to the edge?”

“Where were you?” Mira demanded.

“Sorry?”

“During the war. Where were _you_ when this war was happening? Did you actually fight on the front lines and know what went on? Or did you stay in your home and judge what the rest of us did?”

“No,” Myra shook her head. “I didn’t fight in the war. That doesn’t matter here.”

“Actually it does,” Mira spit out. “Fighting those animals up close might give you a new perspective on what we went through.”

“Wow, you sound really angry,” Myra chided. “Is your blind hatred an Israeli thing? Do you just feel _obligated_ to hate them?”

“That is _enough_ , Myra.” Luke called out, steel in his voice. “Both of you are out of line. People on both sides did terrible things, let’s leave it at that…” he trailed off as Mira walked slowly to Myra.

“Is _that_ what you think,” Mira hissed. “An _Israeli_ thing? Let me tell you something, _Myra_ , I saw first-hand what those people did. Have you ever been captured? Have you watched people you care about die in front of you? Have you watched them be tortured?”

Myra took a step back but Mira, fists clenched, kept advancing.

“I have,” she continued, pure venom and pain in her voice. “The Caliphate became interested in disguise surgery. They were fascinated with the concept of the degloved face, where they took the face of one person and placed it on another. Pure rubbish, of course, but they tried and I stand as living proof.”

She reached up and pulled back her hood for all to see. The blood drained from Myra’s face and several of the others looked away. She knew what they saw, a face stripped of any skin, resembling something closer to a skull than an actual human.

“They stripped the skin off my face, inch by inch,” Mira continued. “They had to go slowly to not damage the “product.” They kept going and going until the very air burned my face. I was one of the _lucky_ ones. My friends were given to the others for practice. I saw my best friend flayed alive while being slowly dismembered. A test to see how long he’d last, I was told.

I watched my husband get burned with coals for information and then gutted like a pig when he didn’t give in. My comrade’s eyes were removed and he was force to eat them as punishment for failing to properly submit.” She was inches from Myra now. “I could go _on_ and _on_. Those _animals_ didn’t deserve any mercy. They deserved no _pity_. They deserved nothing but a slow, painful _death_.” She resisted the urge to punch her self-righteous face.

“Don’t you dare suggest I feel this way because of my fucking _nation_.” she hissed.

The room was dead silent.

Mira stepped back and pulled her hood back up. She needed to leave here. Her point was made and staying would likely only make things worse. She went to locker, grabbed her rifle and stormed off, ignoring the looks she got from the rest of the soldiers.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

“And the satellite is away.” Shen stated with a grin.

The rest of the Internal Council gave a small round of applause.

“Well done, Shen.” The Commander congratulated. “So we’ll be receiving full coverage in a few days?”

“Three to be exact,” Shen corrected. “Hopefully, we can use the data collected from this to reduce future deployment times.”

“Your team is to be commended,” Zhang inclined his head. “This feat is a worthy accomplishment.”

“Thank you, Mr. Zhang.” Shen acknowledged.

It was a good sign. The Commander had initially worried that Zhang’s new appointment would cause problems, but so far the others had accepted him a full member of the Council. As they should. Sure, there was _some_ underlying tension, but that was to be expected. He expected it to fully disappear in time.

“I suppose I should probably speak with the Council,” he told them. “I’ve put this off long enough.”

The rest of them nodded and began leaving. Vahlen came up to him. “Are you worried?”

He frowned. The easy answer was no, but that wasn’t the full truth. He looked into her inquisitive eyes. Should he tell her? Yes, she deserved it.

“ _Worried_ isn’t the right word,” he told her. “ _Apprehensive_ is a better term. Rationally, I know I have little to worry about, but the Council could surprise me. I’m more concerned that they’ll take their vendetta on me out on the rest of XCOM.”

“You have all our support,” Vahlen reminded him. “Remember that.”

He gave a small smile. “I will.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck.”

He let it rest for a few seconds then gently removed it. “Thank you,” he told her. “I’ll be speaking with you soon.” She smiled and walked out. He waited until the door hissed closed before turning to the screen. He pressed several buttons on his tablet and the screen changed until it settled on the familiar bald figure. Good, he’d be speaking to the reasonable one.

_“Commander,”_ the Speaker greeted. _“It is…good…to see you again.”_

“You as well, Speaker.” The Commander responded.

_“We presume that this has to do with the extraction of Shaojie Zhang.”_

He nodded. “You assume correctly. However, I regret to inform the Council that I will not be turning Zhang over to the United Nations.”

The Speaker was silent for a few moments. _“I…see. The Council would like to know…why…you have decided upon this course of action?”_

“Simply put, I don’t break deals,” The Commander stated. “We agreed to provide Zhang asylum if he turned over the alien device. He held up his end of the bargain. I will hold up mine. Furthermore, he has joined XCOM and I will not turn over a soldier under my command without due cause.”

_“While your reasons are…idealistic…I feel bound to inform you that certain councilors are…displeased…with your decision. They feel that you are…protecting…a fellow criminal and are intentionally abusing the trust they have placed in you.”_

Liars. They never had any _trust_ in him to begin with.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he told the Speaker. “Is this going to be an issue?”

_“I will be blunt, Commander,”_ the Speaker leaned forward. _“This is not going to help your case. There are enough people aligned against you and several more who are on the brink of conversion. You are doing little to dissuade them of your intentions.”_

Well, at least he was honest. Still, he could salvage this. “I was unaware that keeping deals was so frowned upon.”

_“Their request for Zhang may have been politically motivated,”_ the Speaker admitted. _“But that does not change the fact that you have violated a direct order from the Council. Even if it came from my…overzealous…colleague.”_

About time he realized that. Better late than never.

“I see,” he answered. “I hope that these councilors will realize that this feud helps none of us, especially when there is a war going on.”

_“I agree with the sentiment, Commander. I will pass it along.”_

“I do have some additional news,” the Commander continued. “We have launched our first satellite. We’ll have full coverage over the United States in the next three days.”

_“That is…good…to hear. Though I expect that certain councilors will accuse you of…favoritism.”_

He sighed. “Then tell them they shouldn’t have constructed the Citadel in the United States. We need to secure the area we control first, _then_ move out.”

_“I will convey your reasoning to them,”_ The Speaker. _“Though I am…skeptical…that they will agree.”_

“I appreciate the effort, at least,” the Commander said. “You should be commended for the job you’re doing.”

_“Thank you, Commander. But there is little I can do to influence the Council. That is up to you.”_

He nodded. “I understand.”

_“Very good. We will be watching.”_

The screen blinked off. The Commander let out a sigh. With any luck the Council would be off his back for the next few weeks. More than enough time for Zhang to get XCOM Intelligence up and running. The Council needed to be taken out of the equation sooner than later. The aliens weren’t going to stop and he needed to accelerate his plans.

He viewed the panic screen for a few minutes. Then a smile slowly spread over his face.

He knew what he was going to do.

He had a plan.

All he had to do was put it in motion.

  

           

 

 


	14. UFO Assault: Large Scout

 

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

 

“Do you see what I mean?”

 

Zhang nodded. “I do. It is an anomaly and one that doesn’t make sense.”

 

The Commander zoomed toward the European continent. “Which is what makes it suspicious. Panic levels in the surrounding countries are in acceptable states, while Germany is in the orange.”

 

Zhang motioned toward the screen. “There are increased sightings of UFO activity over that region. I suspect there is a correlation.”

 

The Commander frowned. “As far as we know, UFOs don’t materialize out of nowhere. It would be difficult for them to appear in Germany without crossing one of the bordering nations.”

 

“Not necessarily,” Zhang pointed out. “We are still not entirely sure how they work. Perhaps they can cloak or make a controlled descent from space.”

 

“Perhaps,” the Commander admitted. “But it doesn’t explain why they would choose Germany. There are far more high-profile targets available, easier ones too.”

 

“You suspect there’s more going on.” Zhang stated with a frown as he glanced over at him. “What are you thinking?”

 

The Commander crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. “This panic influx is artificial. Someone has chosen to push Germany to the brink of panic.”

 

Zhang got to the heart of it. “You suspect the Council?”

 

The Commander pursed his lips. “I don’t know. As far as I know, Germany is not against me. It also doesn’t make sense to terrify the population just to get rid of me. It’s counter to everything we want, nor does it benefit them aside from damaging my standing. However, I wouldn’t put it past them if they thought it could work.”

 

“I wouldn’t rule out the aliens,” Zhang pointed out. “They could be using their infiltrators to agitate the populace. And regardless of what countries they passed, they _were_ spotted in Germany, so it would be sensible to assume that _something_ is happening.”

 

The Commander nodded. “Agreed. So consider this your first assignment. Find out what is going on in Germany. I’d prefer that you bring proof. If the Council _is_ behind this, I want there to be no doubt.”

 

Zhang nodded. “Understood, Commander.”

 

“How much progress have you made in starting up?”

 

“A moderate amount,” Zhang answered pulling out his tablet and tapped it a few times. He passed it to the Commander. “I’m compiling a list of potential agents. Some already here, some from Council nations. I also have some contacts I may be able to use.”

 

“Ah,” the Commander replied as he scanned the list. “How have they reacted to your new position?”

 

Zhang shook his head. “I have not approached any yet, though I suspect they will be surprised.”

 

“No doubt,” the Commander commented, amused. “Let me know if they give you trouble.”

 

“I doubt that will be necessary,” Zhang said. “They seem reasonable enough.”

 

  
_“Central to the Commander, Central to the Commander.”_ Came Bradford’s voice urgently from his intercom. The Commander pressed the answer button.

 

“Bradford, I’m here. Go ahead.”

 

_“We’re picking up a UFO signature. You’d better get up here.”_

 

“Understood,” the Commander answered briskly. “I’ll be right there.”

 

“I suppose our meeting is concluded,” Zhang commented wryly.

 

“Afraid so,” the Commander responded regretfully. “But you know what you have to do. I’d prefer that you don’t take _too_ long.”

 

Zhang gave a quick nod. “Understood, Commander. Expect results shortly.”

 

With that said, both men exited the office. Zhang went toward his makeshift office and the Commander headed to Mission Control.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Mission Control_

 

Bradford saluted as the Commander strode up. “Commander.”

 

He nodded as he stopped by Bradford. “At ease. What’s the situation?”

 

Bradford motioned toward the hologlobe which displayed a red flying disk slowly moving over Florida. “Another contact. This UFO has a similar signature to the scout we downed earlier.”

 

The Commander frowned. “What’s the difference then?”

 

Bradford’s lips pursed. “It’s larger.”

 

The Commander raised an eyebrow at the unhelpful answer. “Understood. How _much_ larger?”

 

Bradford picked up a tablet and tapped on it several times. “Our initial calculations put it around a quarter larger than the scout.”

 

“Do we know what it’s doing?”

 

“I’m afraid not,” Bradford answered hesitantly. “But it’s been hovering around Florida, so I’d assume that it’s looking for something around there. Perhaps they’re planning another abduction?”

 

The Commander’s eyes followed the red UFO. “Have you deployed the Ravens?”

 

Bradford nodded. “I did. Apologies for not getting permission, but considering that this is time sensitive, I didn’t think we should wait.”

 

The Commander nodded in approval. “Good job. You’re correct, we can’t afford to waste time. How many?”

 

“One was able to bring down the last one,” Bradford answered. “I figured two would be sufficient.”

 

“Send out another one,” the Commander ordered. “Until we know their full capabilities, I’m not taking unnecessary chances.”

 

“Understood,” Bradford acknowledged. Tapping a button on his headset he continued. “Raven Three, you are _clear_ for deployment.”

 

“Bring up our fighters positions on the hologlobe,” the Commander ordered. Bradford nodded and three green fighters were added to the globe. Two were about three quarters of the way to Florida while one was barely past the Citadel.

 

“Time estimation?” he asked, looking over at Bradford.

 

“Two minutes for Ravens One and Two,” he answered while consulting his tablet. “Five for Raven Three.”

 

The Commander nodded in acknowledgement. “Let’s hope our pilots are up to the challenge.”

 

They waited for a tense few minutes until one of the pilot’s voices came over the loudspeaker. _“This is Raven One. We have a visual.”_

 

 “Onscreen!” Bradford ordered his analysists, and the hologlobe was replaced by the same holographic screen depicting the Ravens and UFO as last time.

 

“Raven One and Two, you are cleared to engage,” the Commander ordered. “Fire at will.”

 

Both fighters launched their missiles, all of which struck the UFO. _“Hit!”_ Raven One declared. _“Coming around for another run.”_

 

The UFO responded by launching missiles of it’s own. The Ravens avoided them, but barely. Raven One launched another volley, but most of them missed this time. Raven Two also launched another volley that struck the UFO. Pixilated bursts appeared on the screen, indicating the UFO was damaged.

 

  
_“Got it!”_ Raven Two stated, though her excitement was quickly dampened. _“It’s locking onto me. Taking evasive action!”_

 

  
_“Strafing,”_ Raven One informed as he launched several more missiles at the UFO. Several struck but most flew past.

 

  
_“I can’t shake it!”_ Raven Two yelled as alien missiles flew past her. One clipped her wing. _“I’m hit. Damage minimal.”_

 

  
_“Coming around for another run,”_ Raven One informed her as his fighter launched another volley. This time all of them struck. The satisfaction was clear in his voice. _“Direct hit.”_

 

The UFO responded by reversing direction until it faced Raven One, then fired. Clearly unprepared, the missiles struck the body of the plane. _“I’m hit!”_ Raven One yelled, panic in his voice. _“Damage is extensive!”_

 

“Pull him back,” the Commander told Bradford.

 

Bradford nodded and opened a channel on his headset. “Raven One, _disengage_. I repeat, _disengage_ and return to the Citadel.”

 

  
_“Acknowledged,”_ Raven One responded. _“Breaking off.”_

 

  
_“I’ve got a clear run,”_ Raven Two informed them. _“Going in.”_

 

The fighter unleashed another volley and each shot struck true. The UFO shuddered and began dipping. _“It’s losing altitude,”_ Raven Two stated. _“Should I finish it?”_

 

The Commander nodded at Bradford. “Do it, we can’t afford to let it escape. Target the engines.”

 

“Affirmative, Raven Two,” Bradford ordered her. “Target the engines.”

 

_“Acknowledged. Firing.”_

 

  
_“This is Raven Three,”_ a new voice interrupted. _“I have a visual. Permission to engage?”_

 

“Hold until Raven Two has finished her run,” Bradford instructed. “Then engage at will.”

 

_“Roger that.”_

 

  
_“Engines hit!”_ Raven Two yelled triumphantly. _“It’s going down!”_ Sure enough, a few seconds later, the UFO completely dropped off the holographic screen.

 

The room burst into applause, similar to the last time a UFO was shot down. “Excellent work, Raven Two,” Bradford congratulated. “All fighters return to the Citadel. Well done, everyone.”

 

“Get exact coordinates on that crashed UFO,” the Commander instructed him. “I’ll put a squad together.”

 

Bradford nodded briskly. “Will do, Commander.”

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Practice Range_

 

This might be a terrible idea.

 

But it needed to be done and Luke was pretty sure that Myra wasn’t going to be the one to apologize. Since no one else was going to do it, it unofficially fell to him.

 

Though if he was honest with himself, he couldn’t really blame them. Mira was an intimidating woman, so it was natural to be hesitant to approach her. Especially after that incident.

 

Still, if there was one thing he had learned about her from that exchange, it was that she could restrain herself. Impressive, considering how Myra had insulted her. He’d have been sorely tempted to punch her, but would have likely refrained as she had. Although he wouldn’t have stopped her if she had, and _certainly_ not condemned her.

 

He stopped before opening the door to the range. This was the only place she could be. He’d checked everywhere else; the training area, mission control, even the Commander’s office. If she wasn’t here, she was either back at the barracks or hiding, and he didn’t fancy trying to figure out where she hid.

 

Luckily, he had nothing to worry about. Wearing the same special forces gear she’d had when she’d left and her hood pulled back up, Mira stood in front of an array of targets, methodically shooting each one.

 

Luke held back before approaching her and just watched. There was a mix of standard circular targets, and several dummies of the sectoids. Both were set at varying distances and as he watched, noted that Mira only shot at targets that were placed at medium to long range.

 

One thing that he tended to see quite a lot at ranges was that people had a tendency to treat every single weapon like a sniper rifle. They shot _one_ , and _only_ one, bullet at the target and proceeded to repeat. It didn’t matter if it was a handgun or an automatic weapon, people treated them mostly the same. Back in Germany, it made more sense since civilians didn’t really need to know how to properly use their weapons. But he’d seen that same trend a disturbing number of times by trained soldiers. Did they not realize that an automatic weapon was _not_ the same as a sniper rifle or that it wasn’t designed to be fired as one?

 

Well, at least Mira didn’t have this problem. She was the human equivalent of an automated turret. She’d line up a target, shoot a quick, concentrated burst, then focus on the next target and repeat. Having some experience with firearms, he could appreciate the difficulty and admire how she still kept her accuracy.

 

She didn’t always take the obvious shots either. Sure, she always shot at the center for the circular targets, but she fired some very surgical bursts at the dummies. Mostly in the head and chest, but several times at the arms and legs. One of the dummy’s arms had been completely severed by repeated bursts.

 

She suddenly paused and lowered her rifle. Good a time as any to announce his presence. He clutched his SMG and walked up. “Mind if I join you?” he asked as casually as possible. Her head swung over to him at the sound of his voice.

 

He wasn’t sure if he liked her having the hood up. He couldn’t tell what her current mood was from the hood shadowing her face and she always had an advantage when speaking to others. Then again, remembering her horribly mutilated face, it might have been just as well. He didn’t _like_ to think he was a shallow person who only cared about what people looked like. But still…could he really be blamed for _not_ wanting to see someone who literally had the skin stripped from their face?

 

At least Mira didn’t seem _too_ upset, at least judging from her tone. “I do not own this range. Shoot if you wish.”

 

Without another word, she returned to aiming at the targets. So either she was delaying talking with him or simply didn’t care. Well, he could get some practice on. He raised the SMG and took aim at one of the dummies.

 

He fired a short burst that lasted a second too long for his liking. He scowled. The recoil from the first shot always surprised him, he really needed to work on that. At least some of the bullets hit their mark, but not the majority.

 

Better prepared, he steadied the weapon and let loose another burst. This time most of them hit. He smiled, not bad. It usually took three or four tries before he got the majority of bullets where he was aiming. Ok, that was the short range dummy, time to move to medium range. This time he aimed for the chest and several bursts later, hit where he was aiming.

 

The minutes ticked by and he entered a state of concentration not dissimilar to his hunting expeditions. His breathing became methodical, so focused was he on hitting exactly where he aimed that the original reason he’d come faded into the back of his mind. He didn’t know how long the trance lasted, but for whatever reason he suddenly noticed that he was the only one firing.

 

He looked over to see Mira silently watching him, her rifle held in a relaxed position. She inclined her head as he looked over at her. “You’re not a bad shot. I was under the impression that you didn’t have previous military training.”

 

He lowered his own weapon and flicked the safety on. “Because I don’t. I’ve never been a soldier before now.”

 

Mira shook her head. “You trained somewhere. Civilians don’t have aim like yours without practice.”

 

“I hunted as a hobby after I retired,” Luke explained as he turned to face her. “I guess that’s where I got the majority of my “training” as you put it.”

 

“Ah,” she answered, not sounding overly surprised. “That would explain it. An odd hobby for an olympian.”

 

He shrugged. “I don’t really see why. Besides, my wife always enjoyed it when I brought my kills back. She found it romantic for some reason.”

 

He could swear she sounded amused, but it was impossible to tell from her deadpan tone. “It seems fairly clear to me. I suppose she’s eagerly awaiting your return?”

 

A wave on sadness washed him. It wasn’t her fault. He hadn’t really publicized her death or anything like that, so it would make sense she wouldn’t know.

 

Still, it wasn’t pleasant to be reminded she was gone. “I’m afraid not. She’s dead.”

 

“Oh,” Mira genuinely sounded surprised and apologetic. “My apologies. I didn’t know. You have my condolences.”

 

“Appreciated,” he replied automatically.

 

She appraised him further. It was disconcerting, he caught the faintest glint of her eyes under the hood but little else. It was like being under a microscope that had the ability to kill you. He couldn’t tell what she was going to do and that bothered him more than he cared to admit.

 

“Why did you come here?” She asked slowly. “Because despite how it turned out, I don’t think you came to practice your shooting. Or did you watch me for several minutes for the fun of it?”

 

He winced as he fought the urge to blush in embarrassment. “You noticed that?”

 

“I heard the door open. It wasn’t hard to figure out what you were doing.”

 

“Ah,” he apologized. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“I assure you, I’ve been in situations far worse. Just answer my question.”

 

He took a breath. “To apologize…for what happened in the barracks. You didn’t deserve that, regardless of what she thought of your opinion.”

 

Mira was silent for a few moment. Luke waited apprehensively. “While your apology is appreciated,” she finally answered. “You have nothing to apologize for. It wasn’t you who said anything. In fact, you tried to…defuse…the situation.”

 

Ok, that wasn’t so bad. “I just think you should know,” he clarified. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it. She’s not a bad person.”

 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” Mira answered flatly. “People often say what they mean in states of heightened emotion. That doesn’t make her a bad person, true. But she is a naïve and idealistic woman who has very little concept of how war or the world works.”

 

Luke frowned, not entirely sure how he should respond. “Can you really make that assumption without knowing her a little better?”

 

Mira appraised him, the light illuminating part of the raw skin on her face. “I respect that you’ve come to talk with me about this so I’ll tell the truth. Most people are liabilities and cannot be relied upon. People are inclined to form connections with others and that makes them unstable on the battlefield. Many times a person will put their friend ahead of their squad or the mission itself. I sincerely doubt Myra is a person to be relied on if the worst happens.”

 

The unspoken assumption that it applied to him as well stung and he struggled not replying in kind. “I suppose that doesn’t apply to you.” He finally said.

 

“I assume everyone is unreliable until proven otherwise,” she answered neutrally. “But yes, it doesn’t apply to me for the simple reason that I can remain unattached and objective.”

 

The thing was, he believed her. If there was one person who he could trust to keep a level head, it was her. “Perhaps,” he tentatively agreed. “But I’m not sure that forming attachments necessarily means you _can’t_ be objective.”

 

“But can you take that chance?” she questioned. “This is a war for the survival of our species. Mistakes cannot be allowed, nor should they be encouraged. Like it or not, attachments are a weakness and we cannot afford those right now.”

 

He slung his SMG over his back. “So what’s your solution then?”

 

“I don’t know,” she answered slowly. “Unfortunately, you cannot control human nature. All I can do is observe and prepare.”

 

“That’s a rather lonely outlook,” he commented.

 

She shrugged. “But one that is necessary and for the best. You heard what I said, what happened to me. I never want to feel that again. If I must remove all superfluous human interaction, then so be it. I know what my role is and I will fulfill it to the letter.”

 

He understood her reasoning, even if he disagreed with it. Perhaps he could change her mind eventually, but as it stood now, she was firm in her beliefs and he had to respect that. He gave a brief nod. “I understand.”

 

“Not fully,” she amended. “And I hope you never will.”

 

Luke motioned towards the door. “Well, regardless, you don’t have to seclude yourself forever. You should probably take a break.”

 

“Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary,” she dismissed. “I’ll return when-” She paused and listened. Luke could hear the faint sound of something vibrating. Ah, he knew what was happening. Mira looked at her wrist. “Something just happened. I’m being deployed,” without looking at him she strode towards the door. “Farewell, Specialist Warner. I’ll speak to you later.” With that she left, leaving him alone.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

 

Shawn couldn’t believe it.

 

The _one_ time he’d actually decided to be productive, something interesting had happened. Not that productivity was _completely_ out of character, but he’d have postponed his fitness run in the gym to see Myra and Mira go at it while observing in the background with some popcorn and the occasional sarcastic comment.

 

Well, now he had to catch up and was somewhat surprised how badly Myra had screwed up. “Seriously?” he asked her incredulously. “ _’Is it an Israeli thing?_ ’” He mimed. “In what universe did you think _that_ was a good idea?”

 

Myra had apparently been told some version of this a few times now and seemed to be sick of it. She scowled in annoyance. “Yes, I get it. I screwed up. Everyone can stop reminding me. Ok? Please?”

 

“Sorry,” Shawn half-apologized. “But really. I can’t _not_ comment on it. But _really_ , what were you hoping to achieve?”

 

Myra sighed. “It was more to break her irritatingly calm composure. And because she was so…stubborn.”

 

“Stubborn,” Shawn repeated. “And, ah, ‘break her calm composure.’ Yes, I too consider it wise to annoy people who are clearly experienced with killing people in their sleep. I see how you could rationally decide that _this_ was the best course of action.”

 

Myra’s face tensed and he got the sense that she _really_ wanted to slap him. “You missed your calling as a counsellor,” she snapped. “You _clearly_ know how to make people feel better.”

 

He gave a disarming smile. “I just give my observations. Though to be completely honest, I don’t know why she didn’t just hit you.”

 

Myra sighed. “Objectively, she likely figured that it wouldn’t help the situation. But realistically, I have no idea. It’s not like I didn’t deserve it.”

 

Shawn grew more serious. Resting his crossed arms on the table they were sitting at, he looked her in the eyes. “Ok, you’re clearly sorry about this whole thing. That’s good. So you want some advice?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Well, you’re going to get it so the rest of us don’t have to deal with the tension for a few weeks. Just apologize to her. She seems like a practical woman, she’d likely nod stoically and forget about it. Then you can go back to your political disagreements with a clear conscience.”

 

Myra glared at him. “’Political disagreements’,” she repeated incredulously. “Is that all you think it is? She was literally praising a _war_ _criminal_. That goes a little beyond ‘ _political disagreements’_ in my book.”

 

Shawn shrugged. “Whatever. You can debate about who was more ethically justified to kill people during a war that happened a decade or so ago. I really don’t care anymore. That time is over and done. I prefer living in the present and looking ahead. Honestly, at this point it _is_ a political disagreement. Heck, I’d call it an _ideological_ disagreement now.”

 

Myra appraised him like she wasn’t sure what to think. “I sometimes wish I could do that. But I can’t forget so easily.”

 

Shawn waved a hand dismissively. “Fine by me. I don’t judge you for your opinions. But my point still stands. Just apologize and act like an adult, otherwise people are going to start taking her side. And it looks bad when someone decides to do it on your behalf.”

 

She frowned. “No one is apologizing for me.”

 

Shawn snorted. “Tell that to the good Mr. Warner. I bumped into him on the way back here and he asked if I’d seen Mira. When I asked why he said he needed “To apologize.” Along with some other choice words about the whole situation.”

 

Myra groaned and rested her forehead on her palm. “Alright,” she stated, resigned. “Tell me what he said. I know you want to.”

 

Shawn smiled. He really shouldn’t be having this much fun. “You sure? It isn’t very flattering.”

 

She glared at him, her emerald eyes glittering with irritation. “Just get it over with.”

 

“Ok,” he continued. “When I asked him to clarify he answered along the lines of ‘To apologize for Myra acting like a racist moron.’ Then when I asked why _you_ weren’t doing it he answered ‘Based on that exchange, I highly doubt she’s going to do it herself. Someone has to fix this and it’s clearly not going to be her.’ Let me tell you, he looked supremely irritated.”

 

Myra sighed. “Wonderful. Now I have two people angry at me.”

 

“Stop the self-pity,” Shawn chastised. “You have a very easy solution here. Just take it and get it over with.”

 

She scowled. “I’m not sure she’ll actually accept it. You didn’t hear how it ended.”

 

“Well, you can tell me,” Shawn answered. “But if she does, it’s her own fault and you can’t be blamed for making the effort. Refusing your apology will only make her look like an immature child.”

 

“You talk in terms of extremes a lot,” Myra noted. “Somehow, I don’t think people think _quite_ along those lines.”

 

Shawn shrugged. “Perhaps. Anyway, how did it end?”

 

“Well,” Myra continued. “She then-“

 

She was cut off by the sound of vibration. Shawn looked down to see his wristband shaking. Of course, just when it was getting to the end. He looked at Myra and shrugged. “Sorry, duty calls. We’ll finish when I get back.”

 

She nodded. “Alright. Good luck and be careful.”

 

With that he got suited up and grabbing his shotgun, headed toward the hanger.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Hanger Bay_

 

Five minutes later he dashed into the hanger. At least he wasn’t the last one, but he was cutting it close. Four others were already ready and waiting. He recognized Carma Hoyle and Roman Mendoza. The third man he hadn’t seen before. He assumed it was one of the new soldiers, but he was easily the tallest of the bunch.

 

The three were engaged in some conversation while Mira stood off to the side. Oh, wonderful. At least this whole incident had been recent so it likely wouldn’t be brought up or generate much tension. Not that anyone with half a brain would think it a good idea to _actually_ bring up something non-mission related with Mira.

 

Well, she seemed her normal stoic self, though it was hard to tell when her face was obscured by her helmet. Her armor had been changed as well. Now it was an ash grey color with some sort of emblem emblazoned on the right shoulder pad. It was a diamond with symmetrical streaks striking up from the bottom. Like a very polite and symmetrical explosion.

 

  
_Ah_ , he knew what it was. He had one on his shoulder pad as well. All it depicted was his specialization, which meant that Mira had been promoted recently. From her new piece of equipment, it wasn’t hard to figure out what. The rocket launcher that was hooked on her armor nearly dwarfed the small woman.

 

He smiled at that. It would be nice to have an explosives specialist on the squad. Explosives opened up _so_ many new opportunities. Well, there wasn’t any question of who the squad overseer would be this mission. He walked up to her and gave a respectful nod. “Overseer,” he greeted. “What’s the op?”

 

Her head turned at the sound of his voice. “Specialist Cage,” she responded neutrally. “I’ve been told that a UFO’s been downed. We’re going in to clean up. Details are still unknown.”

 

  
_That_ bit of news was excellent. “They downed another one?” he repeated, enthusiasm tinging his voice. “That’s great!”

 

She gave a small nod. “It’s encouraging. But I expect that the aliens will be on the lookout for us this time.”

 

Ah, Mira. Of course she’d have to kill the mood with her inconvenient truths. He gave a dramatic sigh. “Just let me enjoy some _good_ news before shooting it down.”

 

“That isn’t my job,” she stated flatly. “I need to keep you alive and entertaining your false assumptions is contrary to that goal.”

 

Wow. Ok, she really was tense. Best to keep that in mind. He inwardly sighed, this was going to be fun. Still, he inclined his head respectfully. “Of course, Overseer.”

 

The door hissed behind him and a fully armored and helmeted woman and their pilot walked in. He didn’t recognize the woman, probably another new recruit, but he knew he’d seen the pilot before. He scowled, grateful for the helmet. What was his name? Not that it matter _that_ much, he remembered the designation, ‘Big Sky.’

 

Mira walked over to speak to the pilot. “Pilot Olgard, we’re ready to depart when you are.”

 

Olgard nodded and donned his aviation helm. “Then let’s go. The Commander doesn’t want any of the aliens escaping.”

 

Mira nodded and marched over to the trio who were still talking amongst themselves. “Load up!” she ordered, with Shawn and the woman behind her. “We’re heading up.”

 

They immediately stopped chatting and saluted her. “Yes, Overseer!” they shouted in unison. In a somewhat-organized fashion, they boarded the skyranger.

 

***

 

_Skyranger, En route to the UFO Crash Site_

 

As luck would have it, he found himself seated between the two new soldiers. Well, it was as good a time as any to learn who they actually were. Both wore tan colored armor, so they were essentially rookies in XCOM. Though that certainly didn’t preclude experience. To his knowledge, only Luke was the only one who didn’t have at least _some_ kind of formal training.

 

“Ok,” he began. “I generally find it a bad idea to fight aliens with complete strangers and I’m pretty sure I’ve not seen either of you before,” he extended a hand to the man sitting on his right. “Shawn Cage, former French Army.”

 

The man took his hand with a strong grip. “Afif Lim, Peoples Liberation Army Special Forces Unit ‘Arrow.’”

 

Interesting. That would make him one of the two Chinese men in the entirety of XCOM, provided of course that Zhang was staying. But given he was still here, Shawn guessed that Zhang had worked out some deal with the Commander. Odd that China was only sending people _now_. Perhaps they had a stricter screening process? Whatever, he was glad they were contributing now either way.

 

He nodded. “Pleasure to meet you.” He turned to the woman beside him. She wasn’t an idiot and preempted his question.

 

“Carmelita Alba,” she answered in a soft, lightly accented voice. “Republic of Korea 707th Special Mission Battalion.”

 

Today was just full of surprises. He was going off the assumption that “Carmelita Alba” was _not_ her real name as it didn’t sound even remotely Korean. But if she _was_ from the 707th Battalion, then she just might be the deadliest person here. He’d heard stories about them and they were widely regarded as some of the deadliest soldiers in the world.

 

Well…he gave a sidelong glance at Mira.

 

  
_Almost_ the deadliest.

 

Mira inclined her head towards them. “Welcome to XCOM.”

 

“Where are you from?” Carmelita asked. “It’s fascinating how many different countries are here.”

 

“And even more surprising that everyone gets along.” Shawn muttered good-naturedly.

 

Afif turned to him in apparent surprise. “You speak as if that was a…bad thing?” he asked, sounding dead serious.

 

Roman chuckled. “There’s one thing I forgot to mention, Lim. Shawn is an idiot and don’t take him that seriously.”

 

Shawn laughed in response. “Shut up, Mendoza.”

 

Afif shook his head. “This will take some getting used to.”

 

“To answer your question,” Mira interrupted, her voice cutting through the air. “I was part of the Mossad Kidon.”

 

Yep, definitely the deadliest one here. That particular Israeli branch of intelligence was so secretive that some questioned its existence. What limited information existed on the alleged Kidon stated that it was a branch initially devoted to the assassination and capture of major terrorists. With terrorism virtually eliminated, no one knew what the Kidon were truly doing now.

 

“Ah,” Carmelita answered, then inclined her head. “It is an honor to meet you. Your people are highly respected by us.”

 

“The feeling is mutual,” Mira responded. “We watch your operations with great interest. What your people strive for is respected by us.”

 

That sounded incredibly creepy, but Carmelita apparently considered it a compliment, given how she straightened up slightly after that comment. Although Afif looked at Mira warily and it took him a few seconds to figure out why. Once he remembered, he winced.

 

A lot had changed after the War on Terror, but one thing that _hadn’t_ was the continued hostilities between North and South Korea. To their credit, North Korea had been relatively quiet the past decade and with good reason. The Commander may be dead, but he had no doubt that North Korea was wary of another such figure rising in his place. Their position in the world was already precarious, and open hostilities against _any_ country would likely lead to sanctions against them from the UN or even open war.

 

Thus, a seemingly endless shadow war in Korea still raged. Theoretically, South Korea had the support of several major nations including America and England. In practice, everyone knew that it was questionable that those countries would do nothing if North Korea decided to actually invade, especially if they retained the support of China. A fact South Korea knew full well.

 

From what he remembered of China’s support, it was an alliance that benefited them more than North Korea. He had no doubt that if North Korea did something stupid, China would break off their alliance and wash their hands of the incident. Of course this was something North Korea knew full well, though if they could justify themselves well enough or manipulate South Korea into striking first, they _might_ keep the support of China.

 

But in essence, both countries were mostly alone in their fight and they knew it. And until a war was actually declared, the shadow war between the two nations would continue indefinitely. Back to the present, he supposed that Mira’s subtle endorsement of the South Korean special forces was highly offensive to Afif, who likely held the views of his superiors in that North Korea was an ally.

 

He would like to believe that Mira had intended it as a genuine compliment to Carmelita, but knowing this was a woman who was part of an alleged Israeli assassination team and who was more familiar with South Korea’s situation than most…Well, he doubted her words had been chosen by accident.

 

There was silence in the skyranger for a few minutes. Then they all sat up at attention as the voice of the Commander broadcast through their helmets.

 

_“This is the Commander to Dolphin Team. We’ve pinpointed the crash site of the UFO that was shot down. It’s crashed along the coast, on the beaches. Big Sky will drop you on the beach and you can proceed to the crash site from there.”_

 

“What forces can we expect?” Mira asked.

 

_“Based on the previous UFO, XCOM Analysis estimates several sectoids, who we believe act as the pilots; several drones which are likely used for repairs; and we suspect an outsider may be on board as well. Please note that we are unable to confirm this, you’ll have to adjust your tactics accordingly.”_

 

“Copy that, Commander. Orders once we touch down?”

 

_“Secure the site and eliminate any aliens. Beware of any additional security measures the aliens have. This UFO is larger than the last one, it would follow that the systems are more sophisticated and that the crew is larger. Avoid damage to the craft if possible, our science and engineering divisions would appreciate more components. But do not put your lives before that of equipment. Understood?’_

 

“Yes, Commander,” Mira answered. “We’ll notify you once we touch down.”

 

_“Good luck Dolphin Team. Citadel Command, out.”_

 

Carma sighed. “I’ve always wanted to spend a weekend on the beach. Just my luck that when I get the chance, we’re also raiding a UFO.”

 

Roman patted her lightly on the back. “There, there. Once we kick the aliens off our planet we’ll all be heroes and you can just retire and buy a nice beach house.”

 

She chuckled. “Let’s hope we live that long.”

 

“Hey,” Shawn protested. “I think we’re doing pretty well. We’ve stopped quite a few abductions and shot down two UFOs. At this rate we’ll be kicking the aliens off by the end of the year.”

 

“Temper your expectations,” Mira interrupted flatly. “The only reason we’ve been doing so well is that the aliens have been holding back. This was is far from over.”

 

“Understood, miss killjoy.” Shawn quipped sarcastically and several of the soldiers chuckled.

 

_“This is Big Sky to Dolphin Team. We’re two minutes out from the LZ, this is gonna be a drop-in. Prepare accordingly.”_

 

Shawn grinned. It was lucky he didn’t have a fear of heights, otherwise he’d be in trouble. Luckily he found sudden drops and dangerous stunts exhilarating and was a fan of extreme amusement park rides. He checked the grapple clip installed in his armor and it seemed to be fine.

 

“Copy that, Big Sky.” Mira acknowledged.

 

Shawn felt the skyranger start to dip and shake as they decreased altitude. Mira stood up. “Prepare to deploy,” she ordered as she grasped her rifle. With the familiar sound of clicking and hissing as each of them readied their weapon, Shawn joined them and readied his shotgun.

 

“Lock down vocoders,” Mira ordered once they were ready. He complied and almost lost his balance as the skyranger came to a complete stop. The ramp hissed open and grappling lines dropped down from the tail end.

 

“Deploy!” Mira yelled and charged off the ramp, not bothering to attach her grappling hook. Carmelita followed suit. As impressed as he was, he wasn’t _that_ confidant in his ability to do a freeform deployment. The rest of them stuck to the safe reliable way and used their grappling hooks.

 

He snorted as he grappled down. That would be such an embarrassing way to die.

 

***

 

“This is Squad Overseer Vauner to Citadel Command. We’ve touched down. Permission to proceed?”

 

_“Permission granted, Overseer Vauner. Good luck.”_

 

Under the cover of darkness, they made their way along the beach. The damp sand cling to their boots and armor, while a light drizzle misted their armor. The wind whipped around them, throwing up sand which blasted them repeatedly and obscured their vision.

 

“Did the Commander forget to mention there was a hurricane or something?” Shawn asked as he looked up at the cloudy night sky. “Because I think that would have been nice to know.”

 

“Storms like this aren’t uncommon,” Roman replied as they marched along. “Especially on beaches. Personally, I like this weather.”

 

“So do I!” Shawn defended. “But not _now_.”

 

“Think of it this way,” Carmelita interjected in her soft voice. “Think of how much worse it’ll be for the aliens.”

 

“Good point,” Carma nodded. “Hopefully-“

 

Mira raised a fist and they froze. She got down on one knee and they followed suit. “Lights,” she stated quietly. Shawn looked ahead and saw a weird glow in the distance. Even through the sand and light rain, it didn’t look natural.

 

“Approach?” Carmelita asked as she moved up by Mira.

 

“Thinking,” Mira stated neutrally. “This isn’t ideal. The UFO crashed on the beach and there’s not going to be much cover. A frontal assault will be suicide.”

 

“Could we move through the water?” Shawn asked.

 

Mira looked at him. She almost seemed surprised. “Possibly. The suits could probably work for a limited amount of time,” she tapped a button on her ear. “Citadel Command, I need an equipment analysis. Can the suits handle an amphibious assault?”

 

  
_“This is Head Engineer Shen,”_ an older voice answered after a quarter minute. _“The suits weren’t designed for that type of use. However, they were designed to handle extreme weather including hurricane –level storms. You shouldn’t have issues, but I’m afraid we don’t know for sure.”_

 

“Copy,” Mira stated. “Thanks for the information. Squad Overseer Vauner, out.”

 

“We shouldn’t risk everyone,” Afif interjected. “If the suits don’t work, we’ll all be dead.”

 

“Not to mention the weapons.” Shawn suddenly remembered. “I’m pretty sure that those won’t work underwater.”

 

“Damn,” Mira cursed. “You’re right. We can’t risk that.”

 

“Not necessarily,” Roman reminded her. “You just couldn’t submerge them.”

 

“Ok,” with her finger, Mira drew a circle in the sand. “The UFO is here,” she drew a line from it and added some lines on one side of it. Shawn assumed that marked the divide between the beach and ocean. She added six X’s a decent ways from the drawn UFO. “Here’s the plan,” she began and drew line from two X’s into the ocean. “Shawn and Carmelita will go through the water to the UFO. Go as deep as possible but don’t dive unless absolutely necessary.”

 

Shawn looked at Carmelita and she nodded at him. Even if he technically outranked her, he knew when to concede. He had a wild guess that she was better at this than him. “Understood.” He told Mira.

 

Mira nodded and drew lines to the left and towards the UFO and stopped in front of it. “I’ll lead everyone else around the UFO. There should be enough cover for us to approach undetected. Once we’re in position, I’ll give the order to attack. Do not move without orders. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Overseer!” They answered.

 

Mira looked at him. “Then head out and wait for my order.” With that, she started moving away and everyone except Carmelita followed. Both of them headed towards the ocean. He stopped where the tide was coming in, but Carmelita just walked right in. She looked at him. “Coming?”

 

“Yeah,” he answered and walked into the ocean and immediately gritted his teeth. Of _course_ the water was freezing, even through the armor. Carmelita continued and was now waist deep. “I assume you’ve never done this before?” she asked as they slogged deeper.

 

“Nope,” he admitted freely as he kept going. “So, I’m just going to follow your lead if that’s alright.”

 

She gave a pleasant chuckle. “Alright, don’t worry. It’s not that bad.”

 

He shrugged as he raised his shotgun above his head. “If you say so.”

 

Neck deep now, he was finding it much harder to move. Being taller than Carmelita, he was able to go a little deeper, but even she was moving slowly. “I hope this thing isn’t too far,” he muttered.

 

“Focus on staying upright,” was her response. “In this kind of weather, you can get swept away easily.”

 

“Got it.” He nodded.

 

They moved forward for what he estimated to be around five minutes. _Now_ he saw it. Smoke rose from tiny internal fires and about a quarter of it was submerged in the water, but it was nevertheless their UFO.

 

“Mira,” Shawn informed her. “We’re in sight of the UFO.”

 

  
_“Copy, Shawn,”_ was her response. _“We’re getting into position now.”_

 

He took a closer look. Several drones were flying above the downed ship, presumably trying to repair it. Three sectoids trotted about, though he couldn’t tell if they were directing the drones or looking for hostiles.

 

“I’ve got eyes on several sectoids and drones,” Shawn continued. “Can’t see anything else.”

 

_“Copy that, I’m seeing the same thing. What’s your status?”_

 

“Uh,” he hesitated. “A ways yet. How close _should_ we be?”

 

_“Alongside the UFO is ideal, but-hold on!”_

 

“More are coming.” Carmelita nodded towards the UFO. He watched as they kept moving forward. Three of the human doppelgängers walked out of the UFO followed by…he frowned, not sure if he was seeing correctly.

 

Two giant floating…mechanical…squids?

 

“Are you seeing the same thing as me?” he asked Carmelita, hoping he was hallucinating.

 

“Giant floating squids? Yeah,” she muttered. “Hold for now.” They paused and the waves splashed on his helmet. One of the doppelgängers pointed out to the beach and Shawn imagined he was giving orders. The mechanical squids shimmered with a purple light and…vanished?

 

“Oh, that’s not good,” Shawn breathed. “Mira! Did you see that?”

 

_“I did. Be ready, and careful. Those thin men are apparently good shots.”_

 

Shawn didn’t even smile at the name Mira had given to the human lookalikes.

 

“We need to move to shallow water,” Carmelita told him. “But stay low.”

 

He nodded and unsuccessfully tried to make his heart stop pounding. Not many things worried him, but an invisible mechanical squid just might be one of them. They stopped at waist level, crouched down and waited for a few minutes. Carmelita started backing towards deeper water again.

 

“Alright,” she said while gripping her rifle. “I think-“

 

She never got to finish as she was pulled underwater with a splash.

 

“Woah!” he yelled as he frantically aimed at the water with his shotgun. A second later Carmelita burst up, gasping and some tentacles were wrapped around her neck and arms.

 

“It’s got me!” she screamed as she struggled against the strangling appendages. “Shoot it!”

 

He tried aiming but she was pulled underwater again. But now he saw it. The mechanical squid was pinning her underwater as she thrashed around. The water was thankfully shallow enough that he might be able to kill it. He aimed at the head, or so he hoped.

 

He fired the shotgun and the thing released it’s hold on her and she burst up and the squid followed suit. It hovered a few feet over the water and a little green light began glowing where it’s mouth would be. He jumped to the side as a blast of plasma barely missed him.

 

The thing wrapped it’s tentacles around a weakened Carmelita and started spraying some black smoke into her helmet. The sounds of her choking as the air slowly left her and the sight of her weakly trying to pry the tentacles off her galvanized him to rise against the crashing waves. Gritting his teeth, he stood up and took aim with his shotgun. With a scowl, he fired another blast.

 

The thing smoked and fell into the water with a hiss and crackle.

 

He splashed over to a kneeling Carmelita who’d torn off her helmet and was panting heavily. “Hey?!” he asked urgently as he put a hand on her shoulder. “You alright?”

 

She pushed her cropped black hair out of her eyes and nodded frantically. “Yeah, Yeah. I’m fine.”

 

She clearly wasn’t.  The way she was hyperventilating wasn’t healthy or normal, regardless of what she said. “Ok,” he placated. “Can you continue?”

 

She didn’t look well, but her amber eyes filled with determination and her breathing steadied a little. “I can,” she said as she placed her helm back on. “I can.” She repeated.

 

Gunfire sounded from Mira’s position. He looked at Carmelita. “We need to get up there.” Both of them observed the trio of thin men and sectoids heading that direction.

 

“Agreed,” she nodded, determined. He motioned at her rifle.

 

“Does that still work?” He asked. She shook it and a decent amount of water dripped out from various openings.

 

“Unlikely,” she stated in disgust. She tossed it aside and drew two large serrated knives from her belt. “These’ll have to do.”

 

“You sure?” He asked dubiously. “You _do_ know the saying about bringing knives to gun fights?”

 

He imagined her scowl. Yep, she seemed to have recovered. “You deal with the drones and I’ll kill anything on the ground. Trust me, I have experience.”

 

No time to debate. He heard plasma fire joining the symphony of automatic weapons. Eschewing cover for speed, they dashed towards the UFO. The drones continued working, apparently unconcerned with the fighting.

 

Four drones. He lined up a shot and fired. The drone fell from the sky, sparking. The rest noticed him and began flying over to his position, the maddening drone of their engines growing louder. He fired another shot, trying to distract them from Carmelita sneaking towards the side of the UFO.

 

The shot grazed the drone, but didn’t destroy it. Energy gathered from it’s appendages and convulsed into a laser blast that sizzled past him. He fired another shot, destroying the flying ball of metal.

 

“Come on!” He yelled at the remaining two as he reloaded. As long as they were coming for him, he was succeeding. The drones were relatively easy to dodge too. They telegraphed their attacks so obviously that it was trivial to dodge them. The only problem was that he couldn’t really line up another good shot since both were firing with increasing frequency.

 

  
_“Lure them to the UFO.”_ Carmelita instructed. He risked glancing around and frowned when he didn’t see her. As more beams raised down on him he decided that it wasn’t a major concern at the moment.

 

“Ah!” One of the beams clipped his arm and he barely dodged another aimed at his head. “Got it!” He yelled to wherever she was.

 

He fired off several shots in quick succession, some of them partially successful. He was right at the edge of the UFO now and risked being backed into the water, where he was certain he would die.

 

“Now would be a good time!” He yelled as another shot nearly decapitated him.

 

  
_”With pleasure.”_ He blinked as he saw Carmelita leap from the UFO. She had somehow managed to climb the thing and was now crashing into one of the drones. The drone couldn’t sustain it’s weight and hers so it slowly crashed to the ground. The other one turned at the distraction and that was all he needed.

 

Two shots later the drone fell from the sky. He looked at Carmelita to see her stab the drone in it’s “eye” and twist the blade for good measure. She pulled the blade from the sparking wreck and placed it back on her belt.

 

“Impressive,” he commented as he jogged up.

 

“Thanks,” she answered and pointed toward Mira’s team. “We need to help them.”

 

He nodded. “Let’s go!” They began sprinting and skidded to a stop when a part of the front of the UFO that had been weakened and blackened by the crash burst open and two outsiders stepped out, the crystalline orange creatures exactly as Patricia had described them.

 

“Not good,” Carmelita muttered as she pulled out her blades.

 

He wanted to laugh and would have if he wasn’t borderline panicking. _“Not good?”_ Understatement of the day. The outsiders carried plasma rifles and appraised them with their eyeless faces. Both were over a head taller and would likely physically outmatch them.

 

“Run?” Shawn asked, not quite able to keep his voice from shaking.

 

“To where?” she asked as the outsiders raised their rifles. “No,” she snarled, venom dripping from her normally soft voice. “We go down fighting!” She reached for the grenade strapped to her belt and tossed it toward the pair. Shawn dived to the right as the outsiders fired at them.

 

The grenade exploded and he saw the outsiders hadn’t been able to dodge the blast. One had cracks on it’s chest, head and legs and had lost it’s rifle. The other was…well aiming at him! He fired a distracting shot with his shotgun which forced the outsider to abandon his plan of executing him. For the moment.

 

Carmelita charged the wounded outsider, knives striking the cracks. Her blows didn’t seem to do much except make the creature angrier. It tried striking her but she easily dodged and returned with several more lightning strikes. The outsider rose to it’s feet and started raining strikes down on her. Strikes she dodged with as much ease as before, showcasing her close combat proficiency.

 

But she couldn’t keep it up forever. Shawn scrambled behind a moderately high rock as the outsider started firing at him. Plasma scorched the sand around him and he risked peeking out. The outsider had taken some cover behind a piece of metal that had fallen off the ship and was effectively suppressing him.

 

Ok, options:

 

He could take a shot, but his helmet was telling him fifteen percent and that wasn’t worth taking. Not yet. He could charge the outsider’s position, but was skeptical if he would survive or even if a point-blank shotgun blast would even kill the thing. Even _grenades_ didn’t seem to do the trick.

 

Or he could forget the outsider trying to kill him.

 

Carmelita was still locked in a tense close combat battle, but she was going to lose. The cracks were starting to heal and she’d soon be facing a fully functional outsider. Her blades were doing nothing and she would tire soon. Once it got it’s hands on her, she was finished. He nodded to himself. Alright. Here went nothing.

 

He dashed out from cover and towards the outsider bearing down on Carmelita. “Get back!” He yelled, not even know who he was yelling at; the outsider or Carmelita. It really applied to both. The outsider paused in apparent surprise and he used that to unload two shots into the outsider.

 

It convulsed and began disintegrating, similar to a piece of paper burning up.

 

“ _Down!”_ Carmelita screamed at him, as he turned to see where the outsider was. He was too late and the plasma slammed into his left shoulder.

 

“Ohh, that stings!” He gasped as the white hot pain spread through his body. He stumbled back, his shoulder feeling like it was being dissolved. The outsider bore down, rifle pointed at him as it prepared to finish him. With his good arm he raised his shotgun and fired off one last shot.

 

It forced the outsider to move but with only one good arm, the recoil blew the shotgun out of his hand.

 

  
_“Take cover!”_ he heard Mira order. His mind already shutting down as the plasma ate into his skin. He frowned, dozens of thoughts blazing through his increasingly wandering mind. _Why?_ He wondered as he struggled to stay conscious. _Why is she here? This is my battle?_

 

“Oomph” he grunted as Carmelita tackled him to the ground, then screamed in pain a second later. She’d unfortunately tackled him on the arm that had been shot. Something whizzed over the place he’d been standing and he saw the area the outsider had been standing in go up in a massive explosion.

 

The head from the blast washed over him and he began succumbing to a blissful unconsciousness.

 

_“Big Sky! We need an emergency evac now! We have a soldier down!”_

 

Carmelita’s voice. If he could’ve, he would have smiled.

 

He was relieved she was still alive.

 

It would have sucked to sacrifice himself for nothing.

 

Everything went black.

 

***

 

After-Action Report

 

Operation: Raging Gale

 

_Personnel:_

 

 

Dolphin 1 _(Squad Overseer_ ): Specialist Mira Vauner

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Recorded Kills:** 3

 

 

Dolphin 2 – Specialist Shawn Cage

 

            **Status:** Gravely Wounded (Estimated 18 Days)

 

  
**Recorded Kills:** 5

 

 

Dolphin 3 – Private Carma Hoyle

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Recorded Kills:** 1

 

 

Dolphin 4 – Private Roman Mendoza

 

            **Status:** Wounded (5 Days)

 

  
**Recorded Kills:** 2

 

 

Dolphin 5 – Private Carmelita Alba

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Recorded Kills:** 1

 

 

Dolphin 6 – Private Afif Lim

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Recorded Kills:** 1

 

 

Mission Director: The Commander

 

Pilot: Jason Olgard – Call sign: “Big Sky”

 

_Artifacts Recovered:_

 

-3x Sectoid Corpses (Moderate Damage)

 

-3x Alien Infiltrator Corpses (Moderate Damage)

 

-4x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

 

-2x Unidentified Mechanical Stealth Units (Moderate Damage)

 

-2x Alien Flight Computers (Damaged)

 

-2x Alien Flight Computers

 

-1x Alien Power Source

 

-24x Alien Weapon Fragments

 

-122x Alien Alloys (Stripped from UFO)

 

-4x Canisters of Unidentified Alien Substance


	15. Research and Engineering II

 

 

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

 

“Do you have anything to add?”

 

Mira stood before him, arms clasped behind her back. “No, Commander. That covers everything that happened.”

 

The Commander nodded. “Your team did well. Despite being down two members, you managed to fight off an impressive amount of aliens.”

 

Mira inclined her head. “Thank you, Commander.”

 

The Commander looked down at the tablet in his hand and with a few taps, displayed the image on the large screen behind him. “I’d like your assessment on the cloaked machines.”

 

Her face was effectively cloaked by her hood, but he could see her frown. “Troubling. If the aliens deploy enough of those, any threat we pose could easily be neutralized.”

 

He nodded. “Continue.”

 

“When the machine attacked, it strangled Mendoza with it’s tentacles instead of shooting. It was unnaturally quiet as well. Had my HUD not picked up on his fading vitals, he’d be dead. But once out in the open, it wasn’t difficult to take down. Given that Shawn was able to neutralize the one that attacked him and Carmelita shows their fragility.”

 

“They seem to be designed to pick out isolated targets,” the Commander agreed. “It’s fortunate that both of them didn’t go after Shawn and Carmelita.”

 

Mira nodded. “It is. I’m surprised they survived at all.”

 

“Well, we gained some more information because of it,” the Commander informed her. “They can go underwater and have a smaller plasma weapon built into the cranial area. Watch.” He pulled up the recorded footage from Shawn’s armor cam.

 

Both observed as Carmelita was pulled underwater with Shawn frantically trying to save her. The Commander stopped the footage once the machine fired at Shawn. “The question _I_ have is why they didn’t shoot while cloaked.”

 

“Perhaps cloaking interferes with their weapons?” Mira suggested.

 

“Possibly,” the Commander admitted. “Shen’s team is taking a preliminary look now. He’ll hopefully find something useful. Like how to replicate it.”

 

“Detection should be the first step,” she suggested. “I suspect that it will take a long time to replicate. In the meantime, we need a way to detect them _now_. Otherwise soldiers are going to die.”

 

The Commander folded his hands. “I’m well aware of what you need on the battlefield. Do not worry, detection will be a precursor to replication.”

 

Mira seemed satisfied. “Good. Is there anything else you need?”

 

The Commander shook his head. “No. I think I have everything I need,” both of them stood and he gave his salute to Mira. “Well done, Specialist Vauner. Dismissed.”

 

Instead of her normal salute, she imitated his. Interesting, it had been a long time since someone had returned the salute of his team. With that, she walked out, leaving him alone.

 

All things considered, it had been a successful mission. Despite the injuries of Shawn and Mendoza, the resources gathered from the UFO had been well worth it. The injured soldiers were in excellent hands as Abby was finally getting to apply her skills.

 

It appeared that the aliens were beginning to deploy their advanced forces against them. He had no doubt that these mechanical seeker machines were only the beginning of a ramped up invasion. The aliens were still keeping a low profile, but he felt it was only a matter of time before they made themselves known to the world.

 

Hopefully by then they’d be ready.

 

Vahlen had told him that the results from the weapon fragments were looking positive and expected to have some results later today. Then would come the next major decision. They had a large stockpile of the alien alloys and unfortunately no way to effectively use them. It would probably be wise to start researching it sooner than later, especially for the soldiers.

 

The foundry had been finished and he’d have to speak with Shen regarding projects in that area. All of the caverns on the first level had been cleared and were ready for construction. What was to be built next was something the Internal Council as a whole had to decide. He’d have to call a meeting today or tomorrow.

 

Zhang had completed a list of the current soldiers that he felt would perform well in XCOM Intelligence and had forwarded it to him for approval. The reasoning for his choices was sound, but the Commander had made it clear that he would only approve as long as the chosen soldiers agreed to transfer. This could weaken his roster, but recruiting new soldiers wasn’t hard and building up XCOM Intelligence was arguably more important.

 

_“Commander to the Research Labs. Commander to the Research Labs.”_

 

He stood up and opened an intercom to Bradford. “Tell Vahlen I’m on my way.”

 

_“Understood, Commander.”_

 

He grabbed his tablet and began making his way towards the labs. He was interested to see what Vahlen had discovered.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Research Labs_

 

There was a sense of excitement and celebration permeating through the labs. Odd from such reserved people, as scientists in general were serious and focused. Not unlike him. So to see them lounging around in a celebratory manner while smiling and laughing was bizarre.

 

Vahlen herself wasn’t among them. Per usual, she was bent over a microscope looking at some sort of green substance. He hesitated before approaching, not wanting to disturb her work. Even if she wouldn’t mind, he disliked interrupting people unnecessarily and whatever Vahlen and her team had discovered could wait a few minutes.

 

He walked over to the cold storage area and pulled out one of the containers. With a hiss and blast of mist, the container was revealed to be holding one of the alien infiltrators. Though he had to admit, the name Mira had given them, ‘Thin Men,’ also fit very well. It rolled off the tongue smoother at any rate.

 

This was the first time he’d taken an opportunity to examine the creatures up close. It was interesting how similar, yet different the creatures were. On the surface, the anatomy was similar; head, arms, legs, torso, hands, feet. But even a casual observer would be able to see some suspicious things if they looked closely.

 

The most obvious difference was that the proportions were wrong. It wasn’t _much_ different, but the legs and arms extended much further than any normal human. Per Mira’s observation, the entire frame was unnaturally thin and gave off the appearance of a slightly malnourished Caucasian male.

 

The cranial structure was also slightly off. Most people would likely assume it was a unique characteristic, but the aliens had realized the possible weakness and as a result, given them bowler hats to hide the enlarged cranium. The main reason it stood out was because the aliens had decided not to, or weren’t able to, adjust the proportions of the jaw and mouth to match the enlarged cranium.

 

But the biggest difference was the eyes. This weakness was another the aliens had attempted to cover by using shaded spectacles. But take those off and it showed that these creatures were _not_ human. The eyes looked like they could have been reptilian with yellow irises and vertical slit. He wondered if they had decided _not_ to fix this issue or simply weren’t _able_ to. Did even they have limits?

 

However, the most intriguing thing to him was that every one of the Thin Men they’d recovered was _exactly_ the same. Down to the size, shape and structure. This was similar to the sectoids, at least on the surface. It raised some interesting implications. Did the aliens clone all of their soldiers, or use the same genetic code for each? Either way, it meant that they could wage a war indefinitely while just replacing their soldiers while humanity was slowly bled dry.

 

In that case, the priority would have to be to find their cloning facility or ship and destroy it. But plans like that would have to wait until Vahlen had fully examined the specimen. Then again, the alien’s could simply place their facility on another planet.

 

His fists closed unconsciously. The impossibility of this task was something he didn’t like to think about much, for if he did, he’d lose hope in the face of how likely it was that they’d lose this war. The aliens were too advanced, too powerful, too _unknown_ for him to wage an effective war.

 

He told everyone that they were doing well and it wasn’t a lie. They’d done a remarkable job so far with few casualties but he knew it was temporary. There was simply no way that they could win this war without a miracle. They were in a race against time, the aliens were giving them a foolish chance by holding back and they needed to take _full_ advantage of it. But even then, he feared it wouldn’t be enough.

 

He was the only one who knew how precarious the situation with the Council was. He hated to admit it, but if they really wanted to, they could likely shut down XCOM. He’d fight to the last breath, of course, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think he could wage a war on such a scale with no support, no funding and no hope. Which is why it was so imperative that they negate the Council’s influence. And if everything went according to plan, it’d work. But in his experience, events _never_ went according to plan.

 

Would it be simpler to just tell, at least the Internal Council, his true identity? That would remove the non-verbal threat the Council hung over his head.

 

No. Not yet, if he did, he might lose their support for good. Vahlen and Zhang might take it fine, but he was unsure about Bradford and Shen would likely drop out altogether. Too risky, too many people hated him for the potential gains to be worth the risk.

 

He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He’d been so absorbed in a rare moment of fatalism that he’d failed to notice Vahlen coming up. He wondered how long he’d been standing at there, staring at the thin man and likely looking like an idiot. He shook his head to clear his mind.

 

“Apologies, Vahlen.” He said, turning to her.

 

She frowned. “Are you alright? You seemed…distracted.”

 

“I’m fine,” he answered. “I was just thinking. Rather intently I guess.”

 

The concern in Vahlen’s eyes didn’t recede. “Are you sure? You seemed worried.”

 

He was actually tempted to tell her. But it wasn’t fair to dump all his concerns on her. She had her own issues and he didn’t want to add to them. But it would be nice to talk to someone, perhaps later if she persisted. But not now, he had come here for other reasons.

 

“If you’re really curious, I’ll tell you later,” he told her. “But don’t worry about it now. You wanted to see me?”

 

She didn’t seem ready to drop the subject, but continued nevertheless. “Yes, perhaps I can ease some of your worries.”

 

As he turned to fully face her, he notice something he was surprised he hadn’t picked up before. Strapped to Vahlen’s waist was a pistol. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t one of the standard pistols XCOM issued, but a completely new design. It was bulkier and seemed to be made of more parts, a red pulsing strip ran down the barrel like it contained some kind of energy.

 

He motioned his head toward the weapon. “I see you’ve decided to arm yourself. Smart.”

 

She looked down in mild surprise. “Oh, that. It’s actually what I wanted to show you.”

 

Really? New weapons so soon? He became cautiously optimistic of what she’d achieved. Putting the pieces together, he had a fairly solid idea, but didn’t want to get his hopes up. He gave an encouraging smile. “Well? Don’t leave me in suspense.”

 

She motioned him to a corner of the lab that had been converted into a makeshift range. It only contained one cardboard dummy, but it was sufficient.

 

“The past few days, while researching the weapon fragments, we accidently managed to solve one of the major limitations of laser weapon technology,” she told him as she unhooked the pistol. “Our new understanding of the weapon fragments allowed us to solve the heat dissipation problem. Once we knew that, we reopened all the research done into laser weaponry in an effort to create our own. We went through a few dozen trials and tests, but twelve hours ago, we reached the prototype stage. I sent the schematics to Shen and he believes this model could be extrapolated to all our other weaponry.”

 

The Commander blinked. That was far better than he could have ever hoped for. “I’m impressed,” he told her, not quite able to contain his amazement. “This is far beyond what I anticipated.”

 

She gave a wide smile and took his hand and placed the pistol in it. “I think that you should be the first to fire the first shot.”

 

He cocked his head. “You were the one to design it. If anything, you should be the one to do it.”

 

She grinned and shook her head. “I’ve fired some iteration of this weapon over the past two days. You deserve the honor.”

 

Well, it would be pointless to refuse. He grasped the pistol and aimed at the dummy. The balance was a little off, but that was something that could be corrected in future iterations. He applied some pressure to the trigger and a tiny beam of light illuminated where he was aiming, showing he was a few centimeters off where he intended. He corrected himself and fired.

 

A red crackling beam shot from the barrel and the dummy burst into flames once it made contact. He kept holding down the trigger and the beam continued firing. Like a blowtorch cutting through steel, he slowly moved down the dummy, slowly bisecting it as the fire from the beam consumed the dummy. Just before he reached the bottom, the laser died and the dummy slowly crumbled into ashes.

 

An emotion that had been absent started growing as he watched the fire. Optimism. This little weapon was more powerful than any firearm in existence. This could legitimately be a weapon that could pose a threat to the alien forces. Vahlen stood to the side, biting her lip in anticipation as she awaited his response. She almost seemed nervous, though that couldn’t be? What could she possibly be nervous about?

 

He lowered the pistol. “What you’ve done is amazing.” He didn’t often use such grandiose words. But they were warranted now.

 

She let out a sigh of relief. “Excellent. I wasn’t sure.”

 

He stared in disbelief. “You just created a weapon burns targets to a crisp, can be sustained, and to do that you had to solve a problem plaguing scientists and engineers for decades. You weren’t sure I’d _like_ it?”

 

She shrugged. “Well, from experience, superiors aren’t exactly always happy with what we come up with.”

 

That was one of the dumbest things he’d ever heard. “Then I can only assume they are idiots,” he stated, more offended than she’d ever be. “What you and your team accomplish here is the reason the war will turn in our favor. It’s the reason we’ll win this war. Anyone that says otherwise is not worth your time or consideration.”

 

She looked surprised at the praise and straightened up further. “I-thank you, Commander. We…well, I don’t really know what to say. Thank you, it’s extremely gratifying to me and the team.”

 

She actually seemed flustered. Well, he meant it and he hoped she knew that. “You deserve it.” he told her, handing back the pistol. She took it and placed it on a nearby table.

 

“Well, I do have one more thing to show you,” she told him, walking over to the microscope he’d seem her at earlier. He followed her, wondering what she could have possibly made while working on the laser weapons.

 

“Remember that side project you gave me?” she asked while picking up an alien looking canister.

 

He nodded. “I do. Don’t tell me you managed to do _that_ as well.”

 

She frowned. “Why not?”

 

Ah right, sarcasm flew over her head. He wondered if at this point it was some elaborate social experiment she was playing on him. “Joke, Vahlen,” he told her. “Go ahead.”

 

She nodded. “Right. The substance actually wasn’t that hard to decipher. It was simply a combination of bonding agents and certain chemical compounds. Rather simple, actually.”

 

Simple. Right. “The compounds came from Earth?” He asked, puzzled. “That doesn’t make sense. They would have to have created the first pods from non-Earth material.”

 

“I didn’t say all of it originated from Earth,” Vahlen corrected. “I said it was easy to decipher. Some of the bonds and compounds didn’t come from Earth, but worked in exactly the same way as ones that _do_. Take a look at this.” She motioned towards the microscope.

 

He looked into it. “That’s some of the substance that was recovered from the pods,” Vahlen told him. The Commander looked up and nodded.

 

“Alright,” he said, not quite sure where she was going.

 

Vahlen picked up another glass slide and replaced the one in the microscope. “Look at this one.”

 

He did and it looked exactly the same, except the color was a pure black as opposed to a dark green. _“That_ is a synthesized version of the substance,” Vahlen explained, self-satisfaction clear in her voice. “Made of compounds and bonds from Earth, it’s exactly identical to the substance in every way, minus the color.”

 

“Impressive,” he commented, standing back up. “If you can make the substance, how soon might it be able to be weaponized?”

 

An excited glint sparked in her eyes. “Like I said, analyzing and synthesizing the compound wasn’t hard. But actually weaponizing it would require more time and resources than would be feasible, and you requested that it not interfere with our current research goal. So I put it on hold for a while.”

 

She put down the alien looking abject and picked up an odd looking rifle. It resembled something closer to a fire hydrant than an actual firearm. “After we figured how to actually use the weapon fragments, I theorized a way to implement the substance into a rifle and grenade. Then I informed Shen of the project and together we’ve made prototypes of the weapons. Shen’s team has dubbed the substance “the symbiote.” Probably because the way the substance bonds to a target evokes symbiosis.”

 

Well, Vahlen and Shen had done more than he’d thought possible. “Well done,” he congratulated. “I didn’t think you could accomplish so much in such as short period of time.”

 

Vahlen smiled. “Well, you clearly considered it important. I thought it best to finish it as soon as possible.”

 

He picked up the grenade. “I assume you’ve tested this.”

 

She nodded. “We have and I know you want to, but I think it would be best to test them in the Engineering Bay. Shen has equipment that the lab simply doesn’t.”

 

He grinned. “Excellent. Did you manage to develop a dissolving agent for the substance as well?”

 

“I did,” Vahlen picked up a vial from the table. “Once I knew what it was made of, it was easy to develop a dissolving agent.”

 

He shook his head in wonder. “Well, doctor Vahlen, I’m not sure what you’re being paid now, but you’re getting a raise one way or another.”

 

She chuckled. “Appreciated, but I’m not doing it for that. This is bigger than just money.”

 

How true. If only more people shared her outlook.

 

He grew more serious. As incredible as these breakthroughs were, they had to look forward. “Excellent work, but we have to decide the next project now. I assume you have some ideas.”

 

She picked up a tablet and after tapping it a few times, walked up and showed him the screen. On it were some preliminary analysis readings of the aliens alloys. “The alien metal is an obvious one,” she told him as she put it down. “However, the alien infiltrator is also worth our consideration. If we ever want to develop technology to detect them or design a way to neutralize their poison, we’ll need to do a thorough autopsy and examination.”

 

“Are those the only two options?”

 

She pursed her lips. “There are a couple more. The alien power systems and computers are projects that need to be completed at some point. As well as that yellow substance we’ve recovered from the UFOs. But I think these two are the most pressing. But if you wish, we can begin those projects.”

 

He raised a hand in refusal. “After what you’ve done, I’m inclined to follow your advice. As it happens though, I agree. What do you recommend?”

 

She considered for a few seconds. “It’s a question of knowledge verses practicality. The alien alloys will be useful to us quicker, but the infiltrator might provide some insight into alien physiology and their usage of genetic manipulation. Something we could potentially use for our own soldiers.”

 

The Commander looked at her. “You want to genetically modify our soldiers?” he asked, curious.

 

“Not with the current techniques,” she clarified. “But if a reliable way to modify our soldiers was available…yes, we would be foolish not to take advantage of it.”

 

Genetic modification was not something he’d considered before, mostly because it’d never been a conceivable _option_. He wasn’t _quite_ as enthusiastic about the idea, not unless he could see it in action and it would provide some actual benefits.

 

“Well, I suppose we’ll have to make do with the ordinary soldiers we have.” he answered. She reliably didn’t pick up on his somewhat sarcastic answer. Luckily.

 

“Well, as much as I would like to learn what these infiltrators are made of, I think we should begin work on the alloys,” Vahlen continued. “If the outsiders and these new stealth machines are any indication, their weaponry is only going to become more deadly. We need to keep our soldiers alive and what they have now won’t work.”

 

“I agree,” the Commander nodded. “Start work on the alloys.”

 

“Will do, Commander.” She nodded enthusiastically.

 

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “When I say that, I don’t mean _right_ away. You _do_ deserve a break. Actually, I’d say you need it. When was the last time you slept?”

 

“I got a couple hours of sleep about…” she glanced over at the clock. “Twelve hours ago? Yes, that seems right.”

 

He shook his head in mock disbelief. “Yeah, you need a break. You’re going to make mistakes if you keep this up.”

 

“Hypocrite,” she chided. “I bet you’ve had less sleep than me.”

 

He had to grin at that. “Point taken, but I’m admittedly more adjusted to it than you.”

 

“Why?” she arched an eyebrow. “Because you were special forces?”

 

“That’s part of it,” he admitted.

 

“Oh?” she asked lightly. “Is there more?”

 

He shrugged. “I just don’t sleep well anymore.”

 

Vahlen looked taken aback, he was as well. He hadn’t told anyone that before. “Apologies, Commander,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean to-“

 

He held up a hand forestalling whatever she was going to say. “No offense taken, Moira. It’s not something I tell people.”

 

She was silent. This wasn’t exactly how he wanted to end what had been an excellent meeting, nor should it be. Then he perked up as an idea came to him. “How about this,” he said. “What are you doing around 1800?”

 

“Probably starting preliminary analysis-“

 

“No,” he interrupted. “Both of us are taking a break and having an actual meal in the mess hall. We haven’t had an actual conversation since the last time I was here. It’d be good for both of us.”

 

She considered that. “Ok,” she nodded. “I suppose both of us can spare a couple hours.”

 

He smiled. “I have some stuff to get done before then. See you later, Moira.”

 

She picked up her tablet and gave a farewell wave. “You as well, Commander.”

 

He walked out the glass doors very satisfied. Now to see Shen.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Engineering Bay_

 

The Engineering Bay had a frantic and charged atmosphere. The machines were working at full speed and engineers were working rapidly and furiously. Shen was directing several engineers to specific areas. The Commander held back for the moment and instead walked to a table displaying some new weaponry.

 

He blinked in surprise when he took a closer look at the weapons. Each of them clearly utilized the new laser technology, with variants that included a rifle, pistol, SMG and mini-gun. The rifle was actually more compact than the ballistic variant. Unlike the pistol, there weren’t many exposed points that displayed the contained power, there were some slits that pulsed red, but otherwise it was a matte black rifle that was more compact than normal.

 

 “Ah, Commander,” Shen greeted as he walked up. “I see you’ve found our newest project.”

 

The man seemed more energetic than he’d seen before. Not surprising given recent developments. “Vahlen told me you were looking into creating laser variants of our weapons,” the Commander answered as he put the rifle down. “I didn’t expect you to actually have them ready.”

 

“Prototype stage only,” Shen corrected. “But we’re pretty pleased with the results. I expect you want to try them our?”

 

The Commander grinned. “Of course.”

 

Both of them walked over to the testing range with an engineer wheeling over the table with the weapons. The Commander grabbed the laser rifle and took aim at the dummy. The rifle was lighter than the ballistic variant and exactly like the laser pistol, by him applying some pressure to the trigger, a small laser pointer appeared indicating his shot.

 

He fired and the beam shredded the dummy. He sustained the beam and aimed downward, the scathing beam disintegrating the cardboard along the way. He ceased the beam as the dummy was turning into ash.

 

He shook his head in amazement. It was fortunate this kind of weaponry hadn’t been developed by human governments. Anyone with even just a few of these could devastate nearly any army.

 

“Well done,” he told Shen. “I especially like the laser sight that appears by applying some pressure to the trigger.”

 

Shen smiled. “A side effect of designing the weapon to utilize sustained fire. It’s not a laser pointer per-se, you’re just only applying the barest amount of energy and it gives the illusion of a laser sight.”

 

“So the intensity can be adjusted?” the Commander asked, putting the weapon down.

 

“Technically, yes,” Shen answered, adjusting his glasses. “But we haven’t run too many tests on what effect the difference in power has on targets.”

 

Hmm…he could see several possible non-combat uses for the laser weaponry. Something to look into later. He’d already used the pistol, so he picked up the SMG. He’d never liked these weapons. Sure, there were easy to use and were essential for hit-and-run attacks. But they lacked enough power to actually contribute much to a sustained firefight.

 

Well, this SMG certainly fulfilled the lightness requirement. It was nearly equivalent to a pistol in terms of weight. Grasping the weapon, he aimed at the second dummy and after lining up a shot using the laser, fired. The beam was clearly smaller and less vibrant. But it still tore through the dummy like butter. Instead of sustaining the weapon, he shot several concentrated surgical shots at the dummy’s arms and legs and watched in satisfaction as the dismembered dummy collapsed to the ground in pieces.

 

“Congratulations,” he told Shen as he put the weapon down. “You’ve actually made me consider using one of these.”

 

Shen was clearly proud of his work, judging by his stance and glint in his eyes. “I’m pleased we were able to do so, Commander.”

 

One more to go. He grasped the laser variant of the mini-gun and wielded it until it faced the final dummy. It was smaller than the ballistic variant and the barrel was rift with symmetrical lines that showed the pulsing red laser. The weight was mostly the same, probably any weight lost in size was made up for in complexity.

 

He prepared to fire and noted that even the laser pointer was causing a small fire on the dummy. He pulled the trigger and unlike the sustained fire of the other laser weapons, this one fired in large, automatic bursts. The dummy nearly exploded when one of the bursts connected, leaving a gaping and burning hole the size of his head. He concentrated the remaining fire down and by the time he stopped, there was nothing left of the dummy.

 

He lowered the weapon that was dispelling red particles from the barrel. Setting it gently back on the table, he turned to Shen. “I’d say you’ve outdone yourself here. Excellent work, Shen.”

 

He inclined his head. “Thank you, Commander. I’d say my team has done well.”

 

The Commander turned more serious. As exceptional as these weapons were, there was always a catch. “I assume there’s a drawback to using this kind of power.”

 

Shen gave a short nod. “The weapons run out of power after a few bursts or a few seconds of sustained fire. The power cells aren’t hard to make or recharge, but it is far more time consuming to ‘reload’ the weapon, so to speak.”

 

He nodded. “Understood. I assume that you’ve not developed the shotgun and sniper rifle variants yet?”

 

“Correct,” Shen acknowledged. “Some additional work needs to be made to make them viable and work to their respective strengths. The sniper rifle is easiest to do. The shotgun variant is posing some problems, but I expect that we’ll solve them in the next few days.”

 

“Excellent. How many of these can you make?”

 

Shen thought for a few seconds. “These weapons rely more on utilizing weapon fragments than metals from Earth. Our stockpile is large, so it wouldn’t cost that much to make. It depends on how many of each kind you want.”

 

“Fifteen pistols, ten rifles, two SMGs and two of the mini-guns,” the Commander listed off. “Is that feasible?”

 

“It’ll lower our weapon fragment stockpile considerably,” Shen warned. “But cost wise, yes, it can be done.”

 

“Then do it,” the Commander ordered. “How soon do you think they can be made?”

 

“One day for the laser rifles and pistols, two for the SMG and autolaser.”

 

“Autolaser?” the Commander inquired.

 

Shen gestured to the mini-gun. “What some of the staff call that weapon.”

 

“Ah,” he nodded. “Fitting. But that works.”

 

“Now,” Shen motioned over another table that held up the grenade and weapon as well as what looked like a variant of the med-kit. “I assume Vahlen showed you the symbiote weapons.”

 

“Correct,” he acknowledged. “She also said that it’d be better to test it here.”

 

Shen grimaced. “She’s right about that. These things are messy.”

 

“Let’s see,” the Commander grabbed the grenade and moved over to a new range. He found a button on the side of the grenade. “Activation, I assume?” he asked Shen.

 

“Set for a five second delay.”

 

“Good to know.” With that, the Commander pressed the button and tossed the grenade into the range. A few seconds later the grenade spat out tendrils of the black substance. The black substance spider-webbed along a large area of the range, slightly pulsing and bubbling. A few seconds later it settled down, with the grenade casing directly in the center.

 

“The symbiote hardens to a rubbery state after a few minutes,” Shen told him, walking up holding the med-kit-like object. “It should be safe to walk on after that. Worst case we use the dissolving agent Vahlen developed.”

 

“Have you tested on live subjects?” He asked.

 

“What live subjects?” Shen asked with a frown. “Besides, I don’t like risking people I don’t have to.”

 

“Well, I need to know this symbiote works,” the Commander told him, walking over to pick up the symbiote gun. Grasping it, he walked back over to Shen and placed it in his hands. “So I guess it falls to me to ensure it works.”

 

Shen sighed. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

 

The Commander patted him on the shoulder. “I trust you. If you did your job neither of us should have anything to worry about.” With that he walked to the end of the range, gingerly stepping on the symbiote. It was very similar to stepping on rubber, if it wasn’t as firm. Once he reached the end of the range, he turned around and motioned for Shen to fire.

 

Shen did and the weapon shot out a small black sphere. The Commander grunted as it slammed into his chest and like the grenade, quickly spread over his body. Within the span of a few seconds, it had covered the entirety of his chest and most of his arms and legs and stuck to the wall.

 

Try as he might, it was impossible to move. He put everything he had into moving a single inch, but was unable. He understood why the team had called it the symbiote. The stuff felt _attached_ to him, like it was a second layer of skin. Shen walked over and sprayed a fine mist on him and the symbiote slowly liquefied and dripped to the floor.

 

He shook himself to regain control of his limbs. “Test successful,” he informed Shen. “Well done.”

 

Shen sighed. “Thank you, but I don’t feel comfortable using you to test these weapons.”

 

“Well, until we get some alien captives, you’ll have to just keep using me.”

 

“I suppose. Should we begin production on these?”

 

The Commander nodded. “Yes. Two of each. We don’t need more than that.”

 

“Will do, Commander.” Shen confirmed.

 

“That’s everything I wanted to discuss,” the Commander told him. “Again, well done. This could turn the tide of the war further in our favor.”

 

“That’s all I want.” Shen answered.

 

“I’ll be calling a council meeting today or tomorrow,” the Commander informed him as he prepared to leave. “I’ll see you later.”

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Medical Bay_

 

Shawn slowly opened his eyes to a glaring white light.

 

Groaning at the intensity, he shut his eyes and turned his head. Blinking several times, he began taking note of his surroundings. It looked like a medical room of some kind. At that realization, he lifted his right arm to see he was hooked up to machines.

 

Why was he here? Last he remembered-

 

_Ah_! Memories flashed through his mind in the span of a few seconds. The mission; him and Carmelita fighting off a ridiculous amount of aliens; outsiders attacking them; his decision to save her; the outsider shooting him; the last memory he clearly remembered was a blast of heat and a woman shouting for an evac.

 

He was afraid to look down at his arm and see it damaged beyond repair, or worse, gone completely, he couldn’t feel anything. Well, better to know. He rolled his head down and saw his left arm and shoulder bandaged with some sort of liquid soaked into the bandages.

 

Well, at least he still _had_ his arm. He felt a measure of relief at that.

 

The door to the room opened and Abby walked through. Though it was a much different woman than he was used to seeing. Dressed in a surgeons uniform with the XCOM logo emblazoned on the upper chest and holding a tablet, she posed a sharp contrast to the slightly unsure soldier. He kept forgetting that she was originally a surgeon.

 

“Hey, doc,” he managed as she walked over. “So, good news or bad?”

 

“You were _very_ lucky to survive,” she informed him, completely ignoring the question. “You should be glad the outsider shot closer to your chest than the shoulder. Otherwise you wouldn’t have an arm now.”

 

“Yes, Abby,” he responded sarcastically. “Thanks for reminding me how badly I’m injured. Couldn’t have figured that out myself.”

 

“You died on the operating table,” she told him flatly. “Ten full seconds. You’re lucky I managed to restart your heart.”

 

“Oh.” That was disturbing. But also interesting, in a morbid way.

 

He shook his head to clear it. “Well, thanks. I guess I owe you my life too.”

 

“So,” he tried sitting up. “Did everyone else make it out?”

 

She nodded. “The mission was successful, yes. Mendoza got strangled by one of those machines, but I’m sure he’ll recover fairly quickly.”

 

He leaned back. Good, that was all he wanted. “So, what about me? I’m guessing I’m benched for a while.”

 

“Eighteen days is my estimation,” Abby told him. “I’d prefer it be longer, but we can’t afford unnecessary delays. Good news for you is, barring you doing something stupid, is that I expect your arm to fully heal.”

 

That was the most important piece of information. Sucked that he would be out for that long, but as long as he kept his arm, he could live with that.

 

“Well, considering I was dead, that isn’t too bad.” He joked.

 

“Hilarious,” she answered, deadpan. “At least you’re positive about the situation. That’ll help. You up for seeing visitors?”

 

He blinked. “I have visitors?” he asked, surprised.

 

She rolled her eyes while consulting her tablet. “No,” she answered sarcastically. “I’m just telling you that to make you feel better,” she snorted. “Come on, you really think people aren’t going to check up on you?”

 

He sat up as best he could. “Guess I just never expected it. I mean, I didn’t plan on getting shot.”

 

“M-hmm,” she murmured putting her tablet down. “Well, expect some people in over the next few days. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

 

“Appreciated,” he groaned as he shifted position. “I’ll try not to have a repeat in the future.”

 

“I’ll remember that.” She promised as she left the room.

 

He fell back asleep soon after she left. For how long, he didn’t know, but he was woken by a light tapping on the doorframe. He blinked several times until his eyes focused on the door. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see anything through the vertical clouded glass, so he had no clue who it was. Whose bright idea was it to make the glass clouded anyway? If people were _that_ concerned about privacy, they could just drop some blinds down. As it stood now, all it did was irritate him.

 

“Come in.” He called, hating how weak his voice sounded.

 

The door opened and Carmelita walked in. She was a much different woman under the armor. Unlike most of the soldiers whose off-duty wear usually consisted of military fatigues, she simply wore combat boots and black pants with an XCOM-issue t-shirt. He gave a weak smile.

 

“Hey, glad you’re not dead.”

 

“That’s something I should say to you,” she responded in her soft voice while walking over. She pulled over a chair and sat down to his right. “You were in bad condition when we flew you back.”

 

“So I’ve heard,” he grunted as he struggled to sit up. She reached over and gently pressed down on his chest.

 

“Don’t exhaust yourself,” she warned as he gave up sitting up and relaxed. “With this kind of injury, you should be relaxed. Especially at this early stage.”

 

“Fine,” he relented. “But if I stay like this I _might_ fall asleep. Fair warning.”

 

She chuckled. “Duly noted.”

 

“Anyway,” he continued. “I apparently caused a bit of trouble. According to Abby, I died in surgery.”

 

She blinked, her amber eyes filled with surprise. “Wow. You must have been right on the brink.”

 

He shrugged as best he could. “Well, I think it turned out alright. Everyone got out; I’m keeping my arm and everyone has a story to tell.”

 

“I’d prefer you returning safely then getting a new story,” she answered sadly. “I’ve already got too many of those. Most of them don’t turn out as well as this.”

 

He wasn’t quite sure what to say. How did you talk to someone who’d essentially admitted to losing friends and comrades. He may have been military, but he’d been fortunately not lived to see one of his friends die. People he’d know had, sure, but never anyone close. The more he learned about special forces units, the more he was grateful for just being a regular grunt. The mortality rate was intimidating and saddening, he honestly didn’t know how Mira, Liam, Carmelita or even the Commander kept going after repeatedly seeing their friends die.

 

“I’m sorry.” was all he said.

 

 She shook her head. “Don’t be. It’s something we have to get used to pretty quickly.”

 

“I’ll be honest,” he told her. “I don’t know how you special forces types keep going. Even by military standards, I’ve heard how many people die.”

 

She shrugged. “Our work is more dangerous. It’s expected that people will die. How we cope? Varies on the soldier, each has their own way. You have to, otherwise you’ll go mad.”

 

He was silent, for once not inclined to make a sarcastic comment. He was worried that saying the wrong thing would flip a switch in her or something. There was no way she could be entirely stable, despite what she said. Carmelita shook her head.

 

“Anyway, I didn’t come to reminisce about my time in the 707th, I came to thank you for saving my life.”

 

He waved his good arm dismissively. “Appreciated, but as far as I’m concerned, we’re even. I’m pretty sure your warning saved me from dying instantly and then you tackled me before I was blown to bits with a rocket. If anything, I should probably thank you.”

 

She gave him a warm smile. “That’s sweet. But I think you and I both know I’d have died had you not intervened. I underestimated the outsider, a mistake I won’t repeat.”

 

“Ask Vahlen to make some waterproof weapons,” Shawn suggested. “Just in case your knives don’t work.”

 

“Believe me,” she muttered. “I’ve talked to Shen about that little issue.”

 

“Just promise me you won’t try something like that again,” he asked while shifting. “As impressive as it was, a firearm is usually better.”

 

“Glad you were impressed,” she chuckled. “Hopefully next time you can see me work successfully.” She stood up and he caught a glimpse of light reflecting off a deep scar in her tan brown skin. It extended from the corner of her left eye, halfway down her cheek. He wasn’t quite sure how he missed that. Maybe he’d ask her that story sometime.

 

“I’ll let you rest,” she told him, a hand lightly resting on his shoulder. “I’m glad you aren’t dead.”

 

“Me too,” he answered with a pained chuckle. “It’s a real inconvenience.”

 

She smiled and walked out the door, a few minutes later, he fell back asleep.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

 

 Abby was looking forward to a break.

 

Well, whatever was coming from the Mess Hall smelled amazing. Not that the usual food was _bad_ per-se, just unimaginative and repetitive. In fact, she’d been told several times how much _better_ than usual the food was. She walked through the door and grabbed a tray and went to see what was available.

 

Her eyes widened as an array of Chinese food lay before her. She hadn’t had anything like that in months.

 

“Enjoy it,” a man of clear Chinese heritage told her with a smile. “I may not be motivated to do this again. I underestimated how much work it would be.”

 

She appraised him, then her face lit up with recognition. “Afif Lim, correct? You were on the last mission.”

 

He gave a small bow. “Yes, Miss Gertrude. A pleasure to finally meet you properly.”

 

She smiled and shook his hand. “Same to you. I had no idea you could cook.”

 

“It’s a hobby,” he answered. “But one I find many people appreciate.”

 

“Well, everyone will enjoy it, that’s for sure.”

 

His smile turned more somber. “I hope so. I thought everyone could use it after what happened. Keeps morale up.”

 

“Well, we all appreciate it.” She told him sincerely.

 

“Enjoy it, Miss Gertrude,” he told her as he walked into the kitchen. “Now I need to prepare for the next wave of people.” She gave a small wave and got her food. The room was fuller than usual, or maybe it’d always been this way and she just hadn’t noticed it. Whatever, she spotted Liam sitting with Myra and headed that way.

 

Liam spotted her and moved over for her to sit. “Abby. Good to see you, heard it was a long night.”

 

“You could say that,” she muttered while taking a seat. “But both of them will be fine.”

 

“You look exhausted,” Myra commented as she ate.

 

“Because I am,” Abby admitted. “I haven’t pulled a shift like that for a while.”

 

“Well, you’ll sleep good tonight.” Myra told her.

 

“Provided the aliens don’t send a UFO or abduct some town,” Abby amended. “But hopefully they’ll just take the night off.”

 

“Unlikely,” Liam noted while eating. “If anything I’d expect retaliation. Sooner than later. They’ve been beaten several times now, they need a show of strength.”

 

She glared at him. “Thanks.”

 

“Did you learn anything about the new alien?” Myra asked, leaning forward. “The corpses were delivered to Engineering before anyone could get a good look.”

 

“Shawn didn’t say much, but Roman was happy to talk about it,” Abby answered as she picked at her food. “He described it as, and I quote, a ‘Giant mechanical squid that goes invisible.’ I thought he was delirious, but Mira confirmed that description is mostly correct.”

 

“I wonder what prompted _that_ design decision,” Myra chuckled. “Someone at alien HQ decided that the image that would strike fear in our hearts is a squid.”

 

“I wouldn’t laugh,” Liam told her. “From the description, it sounds like this is a seeker unit designed to target isolated soldiers. I imagine the method of execution is painful.”

 

“He said the seeker strangled him,” Abby confirmed. “There was heavy bruising on his arms and trachea. It also sprayed some kind of smothering gas on him that blocked his lungs. He’s still having trouble breathing.”

 

“Painful,” Myra commented. “Alright, I take it back. I guess squids can be a _little_ scary.”

 

Abby was about to reply when she spotted someone new walking into the room. “Check it out.” She motioned towards the woman.

 

Myra raised an eyebrow. “Vahlen, huh. I think this is the first I’ve seen her outside the lab. I swear she lives there.”

 

Abby pursed her lips. She wasn’t on the best terms with the good doctor at the moment. She’d allowed Vahlen to observe the surgery on Shawn since she wanted some data on the damage plasma caused the body. She’d permitted it, but Vahlen had gotten in her way several times and at one point suggested that she delay parts of the surgery so she could get more accurate results.

 

She’d refused of course and told her to shut up and leave her alone, or she’d be escorted out. Vahlen had backed off after that, though she kept hovering in the background. But she luckily didn’t try to intervene again.

 

So yeah, she wasn’t too happy with her right now. Anyone who suggested delaying a surgery to gather more information was more than a little heartless. That had been a side of Vahlen she hadn’t thought existed. Her initial impressions of the woman had been that of a driven and intelligent woman who cared deeply about her work. Now she struck Abby as a woman only concerned about her work at the expense of all others.

 

Maybe it wasn’t fair to judge her on one incident, but she couldn’t get it out of her head.

 

Abby shrugged. “Maybe she came for the food.”

 

Myra snorted. “A likely story. I have no clue why she’s here, but I doubt it’s just to have dinner.”

 

Abby watched her move to an empty table. “Guess she doesn’t want company either.”

 

“She and Mira should form a club.” Myra commented. Abby looked around to see Mira sitting alone as well. Not really surprising.

 

“How are things between you two?” She asked. “I heard that you two…quarreled.”

 

“More or less resolved,” Myra sighed. “I apologized to her for what I said. She accepted and walked away. Better than I expected, to be honest.”

 

“Good for you,” Liam told her. “And her as well for accepting.”

 

“Yeah, but take it as a warning. Never bring up the Commander with Mira.”

 

“Speaking of her,” Liam interjected. “It doesn’t look like she’s alone anymore.”

 

Abby looked over and her eyebrow rose in surprise. Luke Warner had taken a seat by Mira who appeared to be looking at him suspiciously. “What is he doing?” She wondered aloud.

 

“Probably just being friendly,” Myra suggested. “I wonder how long it’ll take him to realize that she isn’t a very talkative person, nor interested in conversation.”

 

“Well, good on him for trying,” Abby said. “Futile as it may be.”

 

“Now,” Myra turned her attention back to Liam. “Before _she_ showed up,” she nodded towards Abby. “You said that Vahlen’s team had made a breakthrough, right?”

 

Liam laced his fingers together. “Her and Shen. Something to do with laser weaponry.”

 

Abby whistled. “Did they solve the heat dissipation problem?”

 

“Don’t know,” Liam stated. “I just spoke with one of the Engineering staff. Both of them were testing out an initial prototype behind closed doors. He told me that Shen was hoping to show off what they’ve made to the Commander soon.”

 

“Nice,” Myra grinned. “It’ll be nice to get some new tech.”

 

“I hope they use it for more than just weapons,” Abby wondered. “Laser tech could dramatically help the medical field. Heck, it could help a _lot_ of people.”

 

Liam pursed his lips. “I doubt the Commander will release this beyond XCOM as long as the war continues. As much as it could help the world, too many people will utilize it to settle scores and start wars. An arms race will begin that would dwarf any before it.”

 

“Hate to say it, but Liam has a point,” Myra shrugged. “Even if the Commander didn’t release laser weaponry to the public, it wouldn’t be difficult to replicate. With the heat dissipation solved, it won’t take long for every major country to develop their own laser weapons.”

 

“Who would be stupid enough to start a war _now_?” Abby demanded incredulously. “Do they not realize _aliens_ are invading?”

 

“It would likely be countries not in the Council,” Liam answered slowly. “And even then, it’s not a risk that can be taken. The Middle East is weakened and ripe for conquest and the only reason Israel hasn’t begun a conquest of that region is because they fear the world uniting against them. They faced enough backlash from their pacification of Palestine.”

 

“Ah yes,” Myra nodded in remembrance. “Though from what I hear, tensions are finally lowering in that Israeli city-state.”

 

Abby leaned forward. “Is Israel that large a concern? They don’t control _that_ much land, do they?”

 

“It isn’t the size,” Liam explained. “It’s the quality. Israel may be a small country, even _with_ Palestine. But they’ve been on the cutting edge of every major technical development in the last few decades. Make no mistake, if Israel develops laser weaponry before anyone else, the Palestinian Pacification will look like a minor battle compared to the devastation Israel will unleash on the rest of the Middle East.”

 

“Except that Israel doesn’t have the manpower to conquer even half of the Middle East,” Myra pointed out. “It doesn’t matter how good their army is. They’ll lose everything simply because they can’t control the populace.”

 

“That’s not how they operate,” Liam shook his head. “They don’t wage war like America or Russia. They use enhanced guerilla tactics; assassination, sabotage, they destabilize the current government until the population almost begs them to invade. The only reason they made Palestine such a public display was as a message to the UN.”

 

“And here I though Israel was a small, unimportant country with a lot of history.” Abby shook her head. “I mean, I knew about Palestine, but not that they were that dangerous.”

 

“For many years they were surrounded by people who wanted to wipe them off the map,” Liam shrugged. “They had no choice if they wanted to survive. Now the tables have turned. If Israel sees an opportunity, I have no doubt they would take it.”

 

Myra groaned. “I hate politics sometimes.”

 

“So aside from Israel, who else would be stupid enough to pick a fight _now_?” Abby asked Liam.

 

“North Korea,” was Liam’s immediate answer. “Israel may not engage if they know about the alien threat. North Korea would see it as an opportunity.”

 

“I assume they’d take South Korea first.” Abby guessed, resigned.

 

Liam frowned. “Not necessarily. South Korea only believes they can win because North Korea is holding back. If they wanted to, they could take South Korea within the month. The only reason they hold back is fear of reprisal. A victory on South Korea would be seen by them as mostly symbolic.”

 

Myra chewed her lip. “In that case, who would they fight?”

 

Liam gave a grim smile. “China. They live or die at the command of the Chinese government now. Their backing ensures their victory or defeat. They _hate_ that they rely on them.”

 

Abby chuckled. “There is no way that would _ever_ happen. China would utter crush them, even if they _did_ have laser weaponry.”

 

“I’m inclined to agree, but the Supreme Leader is a cunning man,” Liam warned. “He wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack China directly, not at first. But if he had the time and resources…I don’t know.”

 

“I guess the question is what _we’d_ do if a war broke out.” Myra wondered. “Would XCOM get involved?”

 

“That’s not our purpose,” Abby stated. “We can’t fight two wars at once.”

 

“But could we really ignore the effect it would have?” Liam questioned. “I doubt the Council would agree, but the Commander might not be inclined to think that.”

 

“And risk alienating the Council?” Myra questioned. “Not likely.”

 

“Speaking of which,” Liam interrupted, surprise tinging his voice. “There he is.”

 

Abby turned to see the Commander himself getting food from the surprised impromptu chef. He began walking over to the table Vahlen was sitting at. The soldiers he walked past didn’t seem to know whether to salute or not. He didn’t seem to mind and a few seconds later, they returned to their conversation.

 

 “I guess we know why Vahlen is here.” Myra noted as the two began talking.

 

“Probably about the breakthrough.” Liam guessed.

 

Abby wasn’t sure about that. This didn’t exactly seem like the best place to discuss official business. Vahlen smiled at something the Commander said. Hmm. No, maybe they were just having a normal conversation. Admittedly something she hadn’t seen from the two of them.

 

Well, this conversation was giving her a lot to think about without wondering what those two were discussing. Best leave them to it.

 

***

 

Luke was pleasantly surprised at the food choices tonight, though it wasn’t as big a deal as some of the soldiers were treating it. Compared to prison, the food here was amazing. Once he got his food, his gaze swept the room, looking for an open position. _Hmm_.

 

He noted Mira sitting by herself, not really unexpected. Perhaps she’d like some company, as they hadn’t really finished their discussion last time. Still, he was ready for her to tell him to go away. If she wanted that, he’d oblige. But it didn’t seem right to always ignore someone simply because they were a loner.

 

He walked up opposite her. “Mind if I sit here?” he asked.

 

She looked up, that hood blocking any attempt at reading her emotions as usual. Her response was as neutral as always. “If you want.”

 

He did and began eating, noting that she was barely touching her food. “I heard the mission was a success,” he said to start up some conversation. “Aside from some injuries, of course.”

 

“Yes,” Mira stated. “It was. It could have gone better, but what we recovered was worth it.”

 

“Good to hear,” he answered, wondering why she wasn’t mentioning the injuries. “I assume everyone is fine now?”

 

“Yes,” she answered, no emotion in the slightest. “Shawn and Roman will recover fully.”

 

“You don’t seem that concerned.” He noted.

 

She looked up, the light partially illuminating her ruined face. “Why should I? They will recover, I see no point in wasting time or energy on something pointless.”

 

Well, it was in line with previous conversations. “Still,” he continued. “Shawn almost died, I think some concern is warranted.”

 

“You and most of the population,” Mira acknowledged. “I paid him a visit to confirm his condition. I assure you, there is no reason to worry.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “So you _do_ care after all.”

 

“I care about more than one single person,” she responded. “Soldiers respond well when they believe a superior cares about their well-being. Visiting Shawn will provide a boost to morale. I believed that was more important than my personal opinions.”

 

Her casual tone and calculated words were unsettling. He didn’t particularly like how manipulative she’d acted, even if it likely helped as a whole. It felt dishonest to him.

 

“I see,” he answered. “Not exactly what I expected.”

 

“Would you prefer I lie?” She questioned.

 

“Well,” he hesitated. “I seems you already did.”

 

“I did not,” she defended. “I told you what would happen by visiting Shawn. My reasons are atypical, but it has the same effect. Everyone just assumes my intentions without confirmation. Any perceived dishonesty does not come from me.”

 

Hmm. She had a point. “It’s still manipulative.” He pointed out.

 

She shrugged. “Certainly. But I have no issues utilizing it if it will benefit XCOM.”

 

“Tell me something,” he leaned forward. “You make a big deal about remaining detached and emotionless with people, but do you do that because it’s actually better for your soldiers, or just for yourself?”

 

She folded her hands and appraised him for a few seconds. He wondered if that question was either too personal or offensive. But she answered anyway. “Both. My tactics prioritize the goals of XCOM and the current mission, essential in important operations and missions. Aside from that, I consider myself a better leader now than before. Part of it is because of personal reasons, true. But objectively I’m a superior soldier now than before.”

 

“I’m guessing you weren’t always like this.” He stated.

 

“Correct,” she answered neutrally. “I wasn’t. I was more like you, friendly and idealistic.”

 

“So do you think the people who cared about you would like who you’ve become?” he asked.

 

“Doubtful,” she shrugged. “But I don’t let the opinions of the dead influence me. If I was commanding that mission now, I doubt it would have ended up the same way.”

 

“I assume you escaped?” he asked. “When you were captured.” He quickly clarified.

 

“I did,” she answered, subdued. She pushed her sleeve up and exposed her wrist, which when exposed to the light, reflected a jagged scar across the rough, brown skin. “It was a calculated risk,” she explained. “At that point I knew no one was coming. I knew that the Israeli Mossad would have disavowed any operation and I was on my own. The Caliphate had gotten what they wanted and had moved on, leaving me to starve or die of dehydration. I was useless to them now.

 

I knew the guards made regular patrols and always glanced in. A few minutes before they came I slit my wrist to fake a suicide. I let enough blood drain out to make it look convincing, then tied some rags around my arm to cut off the blood flow, I also made a small incision on my throat that was mostly superficial, but the blood I’d smeared around it looked convincing enough.

 

The guards apparently bought it, or just didn’t care. They carried me outside and tossed me out to rot. I almost blacked out, but managed to take off the bandages and tie them to my wrist, stanching the blood flow temporarily. Then I stumbled forward, just praying that I would find _somewhere_ to stay.

 

And I did. A small town doctor patched me up and I made my way back to Tel Aviv.” She leaned back. “That’s my inspiring escape story.”

 

He shook his head in wonder. “Honestly, I have no idea how you’re still alive.”

 

“I learned a lot about myself in those caves,” Mira muttered looking down. “But you’re not alone in that opinion. It’s not like I didn’t escape unscathed either, aside from my face.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I lost all feeling in my right arm, permanently,” she explained. “I can still sense pressure, but anything else; pain, heat, cold, I feel nothing.”

 

“So what did you do next,” he asked. “If you don’t mind answering.” He amended.

 

“I don’t. I had the location of the Caliphate cell. Once I’d recovered, I lead an assault on it and, barring one, executed each and every one of them.”

 

“I imagine that was satisfying,” he assumed.

 

“They executed their prisoners as soon as we attacked,” she answered flatly. “Everyone I hoped to rescue died. Satisfying? Yes, but not as much as you’d think.”

 

He sighed. “I know what you mean.”

 

“Anyone not killed after the firefight was lined up and shot,” Mira continued. “With the exception of the cell commander. We left him as a present for the Commander.”

 

“I’m somewhat surprised their deaths weren’t, well, worse.” Luke commented carefully.

 

“I spent a lot of time imagining what I would do to them once I went back,” Mira admitted. “I had full sanction from the Mossad Director to do whatever I wanted. But when I had the chance…” she shrugged. “That wasn’t who I was or am. I’m a professional, first and foremost. Prolonging their deaths wouldn’t benefit anyone, nor would it bring anyone back. Did they deserve it? Certainly. But I don’t torture unnecessarily. Regardless, I have no doubt each of them are burning in Hell now.”

 

“You believe in that?” He asked.

 

“I do.” She answered quietly. “If for no other reason than to know that each criminal, terrorist, alien or dictator will face justice one day. Be it by my hand or God’s.”

 

  Both of them were silent for a few minutes. “You’re very open about this,” Luke noted.

 

She shrugged. “No one’s asked before. I have no issue telling people if they really want to know.” She was silent for a few seconds, then stood up abruptly. “Thanks for the conversation, Luke. Apologies for not being better company, but I need to go. To think.” She walked away.

 

Luke, huh. Well, he’d gotten her to use his first name. Progress at least.

 

***

 

The Commander gave Vahlen a smile as he sat down. “Glad you showed up. Wasn’t sure if you’d actually follow through.”

 

“When the Commander suggests something, it’s usually a good idea to follow it,” she answered lightly. “Besides, I think you’re right. It’s nice to get out of the lab, even for a little while.”

 

“Well, I’ll have to thank Afif for the food,” the Commander said as he glanced over by the kitchen.

 

“I notice you didn’t get anything,” Vahlen noted while motioning at the cup in his hand.

 

“No, I don’t care for Chinese food,” the Commander shrugged. “Aside from that I’m not hungry at the moment.”

 

“Are you doing alright,” Vahlen asked, concerned. “Is that normal for you?”

 

“More or less,” he admitted. “I’ve learned to function fine. The body is more adaptable than you think.”

 

“Still,” Vahlen pointed out. “It’s not healthy. My specialty may not be in health, but with the amount of work you’re doing, your body will give out eventually. Not to mention the stress.”

 

“Perhaps,” he shrugged. “But I’ve dealt with it for years. I doubt much’ll change now.” He shook his head. “But enough about me, I can deal with my own issues.”

 

Vahlen clearly wasn’t ready to drop the subject, but didn’t pry further. He took a sip. “Can I ask you a question?”

 

“Of course,” she nodded. “Go ahead.”

 

“What did you do before XCOM?”

 

She leaned back. “That was a long time ago…let me think,” she paused for a few seconds. “I was involved in a joint German-United States project on experiment warfare. It was a fascinating experience, one of the best of my life.”

 

“What _kind_ of experimental warfare?”

 

“Mostly involving genetics, biological and chemical warfare,” she answered wistfully. “My team was mostly focused on developing viruses or weapons that specifically targeted genetic markers in humans. Skin color, eye color, age, disease, there were dozens of possibilities. On the genetic development side, we experimented with ways to splice different characteristics of humans together. I believed they wanted to create some kind of super-soldier.”

 

Fascinating. It appeared the United States had multiple potentially unethical projects going on. He wondered if any were still going now. “Did you succeed?”

 

“Not entirely,” Vahlen explained sadly. “The main issue we never solved with genetic based weapons was that too many people shared genes. Creating a weapon that would only activate on a specific sequence was almost impossible. I believe I could have solved it eventually, but I was recruited by XCOM soon after.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “I assume the Council didn’t know about your previous work.”

 

“I doubt it,” she answered with a shrug. “My understanding was that they only knew my public cover and Germany recommended me as the lead scientist. All my work there was off the record, so their background check didn’t pick up anything unusual. My cover was probably the one you’re familiar with.”

 

“That you were working on the biosphere project in Russia?” the Commander questioned. “That’s the one I’m familiar with. Which is why I’d assumed you’d been captured or killed when you disappeared.”

 

“So did the Commander keep track of many scientists or just me?” Vahlen asked as she ate.

 

“Not just you,” the Commander admitted. “In the early days of the war, the Caliphate began aggressively hunting for scientists and engineers, likely in the hopes of constructing a nuclear or chemical weapon. You’re lucky to be out of that group.”

 

“What happened?” she asked.

 

“It varied from person to person,” the Commander answered grimly. “We tried to free as many as possible, but some of them were executed before we could get there. Others refused to leave entirely.”

 

“Why would they do that?” Vahlen asked with a frown.

 

“There were several reasons,” he answered grimly. “Some just appreciated the work or challenge. But the majority of those refusing to leave had been indoctrinated and believed in the purpose and mission of the Caliphate.”

 

“What did you do to them?”

 

“We killed them,” he stated. “We couldn’t afford risking the Caliphate gaining WMDs, and even if we subdued them, they would just return eventually. We sent the bodies back to the universities and institutions they came from as a warning for any others who thought about joining them.”

 

“I’ve been curious about something,” Vahlen shifted in position. “The tactics utilized were brutal and cruel beyond measure. Was there a…explanation or reason for them?”

 

The Commander sipped his water. “One of the perpetuated myths during that time was that terrorists felt no fear. That was a lie. They may not value their own life, but they value the ones close to them. The Commander understood that. To break the Caliphate, their spirit, will and fervor had to be broken and smashed beyond hope. And the most potent weapon to accomplish that was _terror_.”

 

Vahlen looked startled at the intensity in his eyes as he continued. “Dying in battles meant nothing to them. The Caliphate believed that no one would cross the boundaries imposed by the UN. The execution of the Children of Allah was the first time someone had challenged them using their own tactics. How do you think they felt when they realized they had an enemy who would go farther than them?”

 

The corners of his lips turned upward. “They felt _fear_. With every raised crucifix, with every body desecrated, with every deal civilian, we sent one clear message; _‘you will be next.’_ We only escalated from there. We showed the Caliphate they were vulnerable when we massacred the people in their capital. We showed Saudi Arabia that there were consequences to supporting terror when we executed the ruling families and torched their oil fields.

 

“Why didn’t the Commander kill the Caliph when he had the chance?” Vahlen asked.

 

“That argument came up several times,” the Commander admitted. “But if we had killed him, another would have just taken his place. He, and his entire army needed to be humiliated, weakened and terrified for them to be destroyed completely. The Caliph was more useful to us alive.”

 

“You participated in many of these.” Vahlen stated.

 

“All of them when I was there,” he stated. “We were a small group. Each person had a specific task to fulfill.”

 

Vahlen pursed her lips. “How many people did you kill?”

 

“A lot,” he admitted. “And many of them weren’t soldiers.”

 

Vahlen was silent. “Does that bother you?” He asked.

 

“Sort of,” she answered hesitantly. “But not as much as it probably should. Looking at it like a human, the acts committed were terrible. But looking at it like a problem…if the most radical solution is the only one that works, is it worth it if more lives are saved in the future?”

 

Her view was more nuanced than most people. It was refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t view the world in terms of black and white, or good and evil.

 

“I think a better option is thinking about it along the lines of necessity,” the Commander finally said. “That was the question he asked. What is necessary to end the War on Terror? And everyone saw his solution. People can debate the ethics or morality of it, but the end result succeeded, regardless of the cost.”

 

“I suppose,” Vahlen admitted. “But everything that happened is in the past. Both of us have changed and I think people should look beyond what you did a decade ago to what you’re doing _now_.”

 

“I wish, but I’m afraid that’s not how people think.” The Commander reminded her wryly.

 

“Sadly true,” she agreed. “But if there’s anyone who can lead us to victory, I think it’s you.”

 

He gave a weary smile. “Thank you, Moira. I’ll do my best to not lose this war.”

 

“Even if do have problems,” she said. “You have the rest of us to help. Me, Shen, Bradford and even Zhang. Don’t forget that.”

 

“I’ll do my best.” He promised.

 

She stood up and walked by him. “I should be heading back now,” she told him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you convinced me to come. I think I needed it.”

 

He looked up at her. “Anytime, Moira.”

 

She smiled and walked off, leaving him alone.

 

Despite his intention of wanting to have a normal conversation with her, he was pretty sure he’d failed spectacularly. Then again, he had no idea what was considered normal now, though he doubted it included an in-depth discussion on the methods of the War on Terror. He shrugged. Well, it had been interesting regardless and he was glad they’d talked.

 

It wasn’t like he was a normal person to begin with.

 

***

 

Supplementary Material

 

The Zeus Contingency

 

 

Factors for the authorization of the Zeus Contingency:

 

a.      A squad of XCOM soldiers being killed on the battlefield

 

b.      A tactical retreat from an alien threat

 

c.      A city or town overrun by aliens

 

d.      A country or nation openly working against XCOM (SUB-SECTION RESTRICTED TO INTERNAL COUNCIL)

 

 

If the stated factors have been met, an airstrike will be ordered at the specific coordinates and locations. Specific armaments will be determined by the Commander at the time the contingency goes into effect. Armaments include, but are not limited to:

 

1.      Avalanche Missiles

 

2.      Stingray Missiles

 

3.      AGM-176 Griffin Missiles

 

4.      Atomic Weapons

 

5.      EMP Weapons

 

6.      Chemical Warheads

 

 

Once the contingency is called, it will be approximately five minutes before the strike hits the designated area. This contingency is only to be used as a last resort, when total defeat is inevitable or unavoidable. Efforts will be made to ensure civilian casualties remain within acceptable parameters, but they are not a priority.

 

-Minimum Activation Authorization: Squad Overseer.

 

In the event that a Squad Overseer is unable to enact the contingency:

 

1.      The soldier of the next-highest rank will enact the contingency.

 

2.      If there is no higher-ranked soldier, or if there are multiple soldiers of the same rank, said soldiers are authorized to enact the contingency.

 

3.      If no soldier is able to enact the contingency, the Commander of XCOM or Central Officer John Bradford will execute the contingency.

 

 

Notice 1: XCOM Research and Development: Members of the XCOM Research and Development team are not authorized to enact the Zeus Contingency. All requests to requests to enact the contingency must be made to the Head of XCOM Research and Development, Dr. Moira Vahlen who will pass on the request to the Commander.

 

-Exception 1: Scientists who have a background in chemistry, chemical engineering or pathology may be brought to the Commander for consultation for strikes utilizing chemical warheads.

 

-Exception 2: In the event that the Commander, Central Officer John Bradford and Head of XCOM Engineering Raymond Shen are otherwise unavailable, incapacitated or dead, Dr. Moira Vahlen is authorized to enact the Zeus Contingency.

 

 

Notice 2: XCOM Engineering: Members of the XCOM Engineering team are not authorized to enact the Zeus Contingency. All requests to enact the contingency must be made to the Head of XCOM Engineering, Dr. Raymond Shen who will pass the request to the Commander.

 

-Exception 1: Engineers with a background in architecture and demolitions will be directed to the Commander who will review their request.

 

-Exception 2: In the event that the Commander and Central Officer John Bradford are otherwise unavailable, incapacitated or dead, Dr. Raymond Shen is authorized to enact the Zeus Contingency.

 

 

Notice 3: XCOM Analysis and Communication: Members of XCOM Analysis and Communication are authorized to enact the Zeus Contingency in the event that factor (1) has been met and have approval from Central Officer John Bradford. In the event that factors (A), (B) or (B) have been met, Central Officer John Bradford is authorized to enact the Zeus Contingency.

 

 

Notice 4: Chemical Warheads: The enactment of the Zeus Contingency enables the use of chemical warheads. Only the Commander and Central Officer John Bradford have authorization to launch them.

 

 

Notice 5: Reservation: Please note that this contingency may be updated in the future to adapt to the evolving alien threat and political climate.

 

 

Notice 6: Reservation 2: The Commander has the authorization to enact the Zeus Contingency when none of the factors have been met and has the approval of 75% of the Internal Council. (SUB-SECTION RESTRICTED TO INTERNAL COUNCIL)


	16. Panic Rising

 

_The Citadel_

The Commander walked through the caverns of the Citadel while the sand crunched beneath his boots as he made his way towards the Situation Room. It was time to start putting plans in motion to deal with Germany if panic continued to spread. Pulling out, as questionable as that was, was now a concern that couldn’t be ignored.

He frowned as he turned the corner. He was certain he was going the right way…

Something was off.

He blinked. Where had he been a few minutes before? Heading from Mission Control? The Mess Hall? He couldn’t recall. Now that he took a closer look around, he noticed more odd details. The lighting was weaker; sand dusted the hallways; and the caverns walls were brown instead of the cold grey steel of XCOM’s Citadel.

On top of that the entire area was deserted with no soul in sight. More unnerving than that, was the dead silence. No machines ran, no conversation, the air was dead and the atmosphere oppressive.

_Ah._

He knew where he was now. He _was_ in the Citadel, but not the Citadel of XCOM. _This_ Citadel had been his base of operations during the War on Terror, deep in the territory of Saudi Arabia. And if _he_ was here, then she wouldn’t be far behind.

He stood alone for an unknown amount of time until the feeling of being watched became too strong. He turned around and there she was, as if nothing had happened.

She wore the same blue T-shirt and pants from the night of her death. Her curly raven hair framed her sharp face. The light shown off her bronze skin and illuminated her hazel eyes. The small smile he’d loved so much was there, but instead of it being warm and welcoming, it was cynical and haughty.

He sighed. “Hello, Farida.”

His wife frowned and slowly walked up. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.” She told him, the disappointment clear in her voice. She’d never quite managed to drop her Iranian accent, not that he’d minded much. It added a pleasant lint to her voice.

He held up a hand signaling her to stop. “We’ve been over this before. You know why.”

“You keep telling me that,” she persisted. “But I’m not sure you believe it.”

“You’re not real.” He stated sadly.

“And does that diminish me in any way?” She asked, her head cocked to the side. “I’m just as you remember.”

He shook his head. “You’re nothing like her.”

She gave him a smile as she got closer until they were inches from each other. “Are you sure?” She asked softly, as she cupped a side of his face with her hand.

The contact broke the spell he’d been under and he slapped her hand away and shoved her back. “Don’t touch me!” he snarled.

She gasped and glared at him. “Not very chivalrous. You’ve changed, I don’t know why I never saw it before.”

“ _I_ changed?” he demanded incredulously. “You have some nerve!”

“I was _always_ like this,” she hissed. “It wasn’t my fault if you didn’t see it.”

“No,” he shook his head. “She was nothing like you. She was intelligent and rational, you’re manipulative and fanatical.”

“Come now,” she chided. “Some part of you wonders that. That I was like this all along, that you were just too blind, too _unwilling_ to see who I really was.”

“You’re wrong.” He stated defiantly.

Her hardened eyes bored into him as a cold smile spread across her face. “If this is all a dream, then why am I here? Why not the woman who you claimed to know and love.”

He was silent.

“Because you know I’m right.” She finished softly while walking closer to him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Perhaps you and my wife _are_ one in the same. But I do know that the woman I fell in love with is not you.”

It pained him to see her crestfallen expression, but he would steel himself as he had before. “I still love you,” she told him. “I never stopped.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what you feel now. You made your decision and I made mine. If you’d truly loved me, you would have stayed loyal.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” she defended. “You should know better than anyone the lengths we go for our family!”

He whirled on her. “What about me?” he demanded jabbing a finger at her. “Was _I_ not important enough to be considered ‘family?’ Did you even know how much danger _you_ put me in?”

“I knew you would survive,” she explained. “I needed more time to convince you!”

His lips curled up in disbelief. “You are delusional if you thought that would ever work. I should end this now.”

“You know the way,” she spat. “But you don’t want to pull the trigger again.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Leave.” He ordered.

She vanished, leaving him alone.

She’d be back. There were only two ways of ending the dream, and while he technically had the ability to change it at will, it was ultimately useless. His subconscious worked against him until it showed everything it had planned. He’d be annoyed, but it was pointless since he was literally only getting angry at himself. In fact, these dreams were literally just instances of him arguing with himself.

He shook his head. Time to see what the dream held for him this time. He kept walking forward through the seemingly endless caverns. The Citadel hadn’t been nearly this big, but it was soothing in a way, walking through the caverns as he occasionally heard the voices of those he’d served with. He’d occasionally catch a glimpse of his people in an adjacent room. He was sure he’d spotted himself several times, leading him to believe he was catching glimpses of memories.

The path he was walking was now slanting up, his destination was near. The desert sun blinded him as he walked through the door leading outside. He raised his hand to block the blinding light and willed the sun to lower. When he lowered his arm, it was twilight. If only he had control over who he spoke to in these dreams.

His vision clear, he looked around the open desert as the wind whipped sand on his pants and boots. His hand unconsciously reached down and grasped the pistol that always accompanied him. He unholstered it and stared at the weapon.

One bullet, as usual.

He cocked his head as he appraised the weapon. Technology had advanced now, no reason to stick with an inferior tool. The pistol morphed into the laser pistol from Vahlen’s lab. Looking down, the holster had adapted to match the new size. He placed it away and spotted the crosses.

He had a feeling what he would find but it was still unnerving up close. Twenty crucifixes were standing in the open desert, each cross held the withered and dried body of one of the people who’d he’d commanded. Their skin was peeling off, the bodies’ skin had shrunken due to dehydration and starvation to the point where the outlines of their bones were visible. Dried blood coated their wrists, hands and feet.

He observed them for a few minutes. “I’m waiting.” he told no one in particular. He’d been led here for a reason, and though time had no meaning here, didn’t appreciate it being wasted.

With an audible creaking and like crumpled paper, the man on the cross close to him raised his head, his skeletal face and rotting eyes didn’t hinder the Commander from recognizing him. Ethan Delger, his second-in-command.

“Why are you alive?” He asked, the once commanding voice shriveled and raspy.

The Commander sighed. “Good question. I can only assume that the Council believed they might need me one day. But I don’t know for sure.”

“You lied to us,” Ethan continued. “We trusted you.”

“I never lied to you,” the Commander answered. “And I earned your trust.”

The man let out a withered and raspy laugh. “Then tell me, why are we dead?”

The corpse of Ethan tore his arm off the cross, the tearing of flesh echoed unnaturally, as well as the bone scraping across the nail embedded in the wrist. He repeated it for his other arm, then reaching down, forced his feet up through the nail.

Unbound, he jumped down and approached the Commander, stopping a few feet from him. Man and corpse appraised each other. The withered man glared at him with dead eyes while the Commander stood with his hands clasped behind his back, ready for what his friend had to say.

The Commander waited a few seconds before answering. “I didn’t expect them to execute you,” he admitted. “The deal was that I turn myself in and everyone else went free. You know that.”

“And you _actually_ expected them to follow through,” Ethan demanded incredulously. “You, who went on and on about the unreliability and tyrannical United Nations. You _knew_ what would happen yet you walked right into it.”

“It was a mistake,” he agreed sadly. “One I regret every day. But it was either continue running or be hunted down anyway. Our mission was complete. I thought this way would allow everyone a chance to be free again.”

“But instead you were sent to a cushy prison,” Ethan spat. “We were sent to the worst places in the world. We starved, burned and were tortured for what we did. _You_ did this to us!”

“We agreed _together_ ,” The Commander exclaimed. “I said very clearly that I would only go through with it if _everyone_ agreed. And everyone _did_!”

The corpse shook his head and let out a broken chuckle. “What did you expect? That we would go against the _great_ Commander who lead a war that shook the entire world to the core?”

“I didn’t make unilateral decisions and you know it!” the Commander shot back, anger growing in his eyes. “Everyone, including you _agreed_ with me because you _trusted_ me!”

“ _Trust_? You really believed we _trusted_ you?” Ethan shook his head. “Do you really believed we followed you because of some great purpose to defend the world? Do you really believe that we followed you because of your leadership and supposed friendship?”

Ethan took a step toward him. “We followed you because we were _afraid_.”

“Of me.”

Ethan’s lips pulled back in a mockery of a smile. “Who else? We’d seen what you were capable of. We’d seen what you unleashed on Saudi Arabia, the Caliphate, Mecca; we knew how you dealt with anyone you perceived as a traitor. Why else would we willingly slaughter thousands of innocents at the command of one man?”

“You’re not real,” the Commander stated, more as a defense. “And you’re wrong. I worked hard to ensure I _wasn’t_ like that.”

“Does it matter if I exist or not?” Ethan asked. “Because if I’m here, then you believe it on some level.”

“And do you have any proof?” the Commander demanded. “You just say this to rattle me?”

“Do you?” Ethan shot back. “How do you know everyone revered you as much as you think?”

“No one ‘revered’ me,” the Commander corrected harshly. “I didn’t command through fear. If someone didn’t want to carry out my orders, I found someone that would. If they had a problem, we talked it out. You know this, we worked side-by-side, we argued many times but eventually solved our issues. Your assertion that everyone followed because of fear is flawed and incorrect.”

Ethan’s neck creaked as he cocked his head. “But do you know for sure?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Once you being to accept the truth, the easier it will be.” Farida told him from behind, he turned to see her in the same cloths she’d worn the first time he’d seen her. Plain tan desert garb with an open-faced hijab.

“Welcome back,” he greeted.

“Sending me away was rude,” she chided. “You knew I’d come back.”

“Perhaps I wanted some peace,” he shrugged. “I’m certainly not getting any from you.”

She frowned. “Why do you fight us? Why do you refuse to accept who we are and what you’ve done?”

“Because you are ghosts, apparitions or projections,” the Commander listed off. “I don’t know why you appear, I don’t know why I’m continuously tormented. But I think this dream has gone on long enough.

“Don’t dismiss what we say simply because you disagree,” Ethan warned. “Lead like you lead us and everyone who follows you now will die.” He waved his arm and the people on the crosses morphed into those from XCOM. Bradford, Shen, Zhang, Abby, Patricia, Luke.

Vahlen.

“You will lead them to their deaths,” Ethan promised. “As you lead us to ours.”

“You’ll be blind to who they truly are,” Farida stated. “Then you will kill them, as you killed me.”

The Commander unholstered the pistol and aimed the weapon at the woman who looked like his wife. “Goodbye, Farida,” he said. Then pulled the trigger, the beam burned a hole cleanly through her head and she collapsed to the ground, smoke rising from the wound.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

He woke up.

Rolling over he sat up and placed his feet on the floor. The drowsiness quickly fading from his mind.

The dreams had become worse and more frequent since taking command of XCOM. He could count on one hand number of times he’d managed to sleep without them. It’d hadn’t been this bad when he’d been in his cell. Sure, there’d been one every now and then, but overall it’d hadn’t really been an issue.

It was times like these he envied those who forgot their dreams as they woke or didn’t realize they’d had any at all. Lucid dreaming was something normally envied by many, but after experiencing it hundreds of times, he wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic. Sure, you could alter whatever you wanted and as a child he’d enjoyed it.

But you couldn’t control who or what showed up. You could get rid of them temporarily or delay what the subconscious was trying to show you, but in the end, you were trapped until a certain event was triggered. His dreams followed a similar pattern of escape: he had to die, or kill someone else.

He sighed and went to get dressed. At least this one had been fairly long, six hours. His body needed the rest even if now he felt anything but. At least he’d be able to get a head start on what he intended to accomplish today. Events permitting, he’d hopefully make some gains in independence and dealing with the situation in Germany.

First order of business was to get Bradford to make calls to Germany and Israel. Next he’d assemble the Internal Council and make plans to move forward.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

_Four hours later_

The five of them stood around the holotable. The Commander was flanked by Vahlen. Shen and Bradford stood on opposing sides and Zhang stood opposite him. “Thank you all for coming,” the Commander began. “We have a lot to cover so I won’t waste more time.”

He pressed several buttons on the table a blue hologram of Europe was brought up. “First order of business is bringing everyone up to speed on Germany.” He pressed another button and each countries turned a different color depending on the panic level. “I don’t need to explain what the issue is here. Panic is rising in Germany at an alarming rate, and it isn’t affecting the surrounding countries.”

“The German government is attempting to suppress outside communication,” Bradford informed them. “Anything remotely related to the alien threat is censored, deleted and silenced.”

“Idiots,” the Commander shook his head. “No wonder the situation has escalated so much. But censorship alone wouldn’t account for the massive spike.”

“You suspect intervention?” Shen asked.

“Some form,” the Commander nodded. “Germany and only Germany, is being targeted by someone.”

“The next logical question is _whom_?” Vahlen stated.

“The aliens seem like the most obvious choice,” Bradford stated. “Their infiltrators can pass as human to most observers.”

“Long-term operations like this take time,” the Commander noted. “Time that apparently wasn’t needed judging from the result.”

“Look at the factors,” Zhang interjected. “What brought Germany to this state?”

“There was a massive influx of public rallies about how the government was ‘hiding the truth from the people,’” The Commander noted. “Typical conspiracy types. They didn’t get much traction at first, but as the media started focusing on them, people have become more nervous.”

Vahlen scrolled through her tablet. “Several objects of unknown origin were found in major German cities. Also didn’t attract much attention until the German army came and confiscated the objects and refused to tell them why. The people that found them went to the media to complain.”

“Only adding fuel to the fire.” Shen commented.

“It seems that the single largest factor was the sudden mass censorship,” Zhang noted. “Following the announcement, there were protests in Berlin, Hamburg and Munich. Bad ones from the reports. If the protesters aren’t contained soon, riots will break out.”

“And if the German Army pacifies them, it’ll only frighten the populace further,” the Commander finished grimly. “No good solution.”

“So who is most likely to cause those factors?” Zhang asked. “Answer that and we should have a good idea.”

“The infiltrators could account for the objects placed around the country,” the Commander began. “Possibly also be responsible for inciting the protests and rallies.”

“The infiltrators are too different to someone _not_ to notice,” Vahlen pointed out. “The media has been focusing on the leaders for a few days now. I’ve looked at them myself, they don’t fit the profile of the corpses we have now.”

The Commander shook his head. “You never look at the leader of the protests. You look at the people advising him. Especially in engineered protests, the leader is usually just a figurehead. The real power is in one of the advisors. It’s plausible for one of them to be a thin man.”

Zhang humped. “A cute name.”

Bradford chuckled at Zhang using the word “cute” since it sounded so wrong coming from his gruff voice. He controlled it quickly. “It might account for the objects and protests, true. But the problem is that the media has been covering it extensively.”

“So who controls the media?” The Commander asked.

“Technically, no one,” Bradford answered. “But they have to know what they’re doing.”

“Do you think they could have been infiltrated?” Vahlen asked him.

The Commander pursed his lips. “Unlikely. But this could simply be a case of the media doing whatever it can to boost ratings, even at the expense of a country.”

Vahlen sighed. “Surely the German government would know that censoring anything will only draw attention to it?”

“They do,” Zhang stated. “Governments don’t censor for the fun of it. This is a clear and calculated move. But one that makes no sense. They have nothing to gain from panicking the populace.”

“Are you suggesting the government is behind this?” Shen asked incredulously.

“I’m more inclined to think that someone is telling them what to do,” the Commander stated quietly. “And only a few organizations have that kind of influence.”

“The _Council_?” Vahlen exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

Bradford frowned. “That makes no sense. What could they possibly gain?”

The Commander shook his head. “All I’m saying is that it’s a possibility. But one we can’t overlook. I have enemies on the Council and they might believe it worth sacrificing a country to show I’m not fit to command.”

“The United Nations would never do that,” Shen declared. “It goes against everything they stand for.”

The Commander rested his hands on the table. “Reagardless, we need to make preparations to enact the Hades Contingency.”

There was a dead silence at that.

“Let’s pray it doesn’t come to that.” Shen muttered softly.

The Commander looked over. “Zhang, any progress?”

He nodded. “I’ve enlisted some former contacts who owe me a favor. They are en route to Berlin as we speak. They’ll suffice until I get some actual agents.”

“Excellent,” the Commander answered. “And if events go well today, you’ll hopefully get them sooner than later.” He glanced at Bradford. “Are the meetings scheduled?”

Bradford nodded. “Ahren Habicht has a limited timeframe, but it’s doable. Prime Minister Nowinski is open anytime.”

Zhang cocked his head. “You’re meeting the Prime Minister of Israel?”

“Yes.” the Commander acknowledged.

“Why?” Shen asked.

“Several reasons, largest of which is that I believe they could be an ally.”

“You want them to fund us.” Zhang stated.

“Partially,” the Commander acknowledged. “But that’s not the only reason. The Israeli Mossad is one of the best intelligence agencies in the world. I think they’d be useful to us.”

“Hmm…” Zhang considered that. “They would be useful. But Israel isn’t going to give you funding and manpower for free.”

“I’ll worry about that,” the Commander dismissed.

“I don’t recognize the other name,” Shen said. “Who’s he?”

“The German Minister of Defense,” Vahlen answered. “He directs the entirety of the German military.”

“For the Hades Contingency?” Zhang assumed.

“Correct.”

“What are you hoping to accomplish?” Bradford asked.

“If Germany withdraws, I’d prefer we not lose the military as well.”

“Will he even consider defying the Cabinet?”

“I know Ahren,” Vahlen interjected. “If he can be convinced that Germany will benefit, he stands a chance at being convinced.”

“After we finish here, I’ll be flying to Germany, then Israel,” the Commander informed them. “Notify me of any developments, but in the event that I can’t be reached, Bradford is in command. Understood?”

They all nodded.

“Good,” he said. “Now for some better news. I’m sure you’ve all heard about Vahlen and Shen’s breakthrough with laser weaponry, so I won’t repeat it. Progress with production, Shen?”

“My team is hard at work,” Shen answered. “The first of the rifles are already being finished.”

“Actually, Commander,” Vahlen interrupted. “I’d like to bring up something as long as we’re gathered.”

The Commander frowned. “Is there a problem.”

She shook her head. “No, this doesn’t concern the weaponry. This relates to the future.”

He inclined his head. “Go ahead.”

“If possible, I’d like to capture one of the aliens. Alive.”

Bradford jerked up. “You want to risk the lives of our troops so we can _capture_ one of those things?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Without a live specimen, I’m afraid we’re soon going to reach the pinnacle of what we can accomplish. Information gathered from a live alien will be essential in understanding and decrypting the computers, systems and substances we’ve recovered.”

“I agree,” Shen nodded. “We do not fully _know_ our enemy, not their motives and only a rudimentary understanding of their technology.”

Bradford raised an eyebrow. “And how do you suggest we do this, doctor?”

“I’ve developed a schematic for a stun weapon,” Vahlen explained. “A highly concentrated burst delivered at close range-“

 _“Close range?!”_ Bradford burst out in an odd combination of surprise and anger.

She looked slightly taken aback. “Yes, it’ll take some time, but my team-“

Zhang raised a hand. “You are not concerned about the type of enemy, correct.”

“Not for now,” she agreed. “Any alien would do.”

“Develop your weapon,” Zhang continued. “But the soldiers could easily pacify one of the sectoids with brute force. No stun weapon needed.”

“Risky,” Shen noted. “But that’s possible.”

“If you need one, Vahlen, I’ll order our soldiers to take one alive,” the Commander promised. “But realize that we have no place to effectively contain it.”

“Leave that to me,” Shen promised. “Enough caverns are cleared out that we can begin construction on the alien containment module. On your order, of course.”

He nodded. “Do it.” He looked around at the rest of them. “I believe that covers everything. Any other concerns to bring up?”

“No, Commander,” Vahlen answered. “I think you covered everything important.”

“Excellent,” he gave them his salute. “Dismissed. Now I have some countries to visit.”

Vahlen, Shen and Bradford all nodded in acknowledgement. Zhang returned his salute. With that, each of them filed out and the Commander headed to the Hanger Bay.

* * *

 

_Germany, Undisclosed Location_

_“Preparing for touchdown,”_ Big Sky warned him from his earpiece. _“Stand by.”_

The Commander stood up as the skyranger slowly lost altitude. He didn’t bother grasping the handle above, his balance wasn’t gone yet. With a shudder, the skyranger touched down and the ramp deployed with a hiss.

 _“Clear to exit, Commander,”_ Big Sky told him. _“Good luck. I’m ready to leave on your order.”_

“Copy, Big Sky,” the Commander acknowledged. “Good job, I’ll be back soon.” With that he took off the earpiece and placed it on the seat. Even in an isolated location like this, it wasn’t worth the risk of someone tapping into the earpiece. He strode down the ramp admiring the scenery.

It was a beautiful overcast day, the wind whipped around him, bending the trees permeating the forest. In the middle of the clearing was a small house, despite being well maintained, it appeared uninhabited. Unlikely judging from helicopter landed a short distance from the house.

He walked up to the door and gave a few taps on the doorframe and stepped back. A few seconds later the door opened and the German Defense Minister stood before him. He matched the pictures the Commander had seen, a grizzled veteran around fifty with a piercing blue eye as his other had been destroyed in an operation gone wrong.

His short styled white hair only added to his commanding appearance, as did his no-nonsense expression. He’d come in his full dress uniform as well, an impressive array of badges and medals pinned to the uniform. Quite a contrast to what the Commander was wearing, simple black XCOM military fatigues and a vest. He technically did have a ceremonial uniform, but he’d never really cared much for those.

The Commander inclined his head in greeting. “Defense Minister Habicht, I presume.”

The man nodded and extended a hand. “Correct, Commander. A pleasure to meet you.”

He took the extended hand. “Same to you, thank you for meeting on such short notice.”

“Your Central Officer told me it concerns the future of my country,” Habicht said. “That is something I take seriously, especially coming from your organization,” he motioned inside. “Come in. We have much to discuss.”

The Commander stepped in. The home was appropriately furnished with several couches in the living room, the coffee table setting between them. Their boots clicked on the wooden floor as both men went over to the couches.

“How much do you know about XCOM?” the Commander asked as he sat down.

“Not as much as I would like,” Habicht admitted. “The Council has kept all records of your organization secret, barring the necessary details. But from following certain events, it seems that it has been effective so far.”

“We’ve had success so far,” the Commander answered. “But I believe the war will enter a new phase soon.”

“Explain.”

“I know that the situation in Germany is precarious,” the Commander informed him. “I assume you’re taking steps to bring the populace under control.”

Habicht pursed his lips. “I’ve been restricted from interfering with the populace unless absolutely necessary. As it stands now, any further escalation will only embolden the protestors and destabilize the country further.”

“Define ‘absolutely necessary.’”

He shrugged. “From the orders given, anything short storming the capital will be permitted.”

“And what if riots break out?” the Commander questioned.

“Only to interfere if it turns violent.”

The Commander frowned. “I’m certain that you’ve guessed that these events are engineered.”

“No doubt,” Habicht agreed. “This only escalated in the past few weeks. The Cabinet has handled this situation exceptionally poorly.”

“I’d think that they’d consult you before imposing mass censorship.” The Commander commented.

“I’ve been silently obstructed recently,” he shook his head. “I don’t know what’s gotten into the president, but it’s growing more and more difficult to not become suspicious.”

“How is the military reacting?”

“They feel confused, restrained and frustrated,” the grizzled man answered tightly. “I can do nothing without going against the Cabinet, nor can I explain what’s going on since I no longer know.”

Perfect. He wouldn’t be hard to convince after all.

“Tell me,” he asked. “What do you think would happen if XCOM was defeated?”

“Humanity would likely follow,” he stated. “I know little about the aliens capabilities, but from the limited reports I’ve seen concerning them, they are far beyond us in terms of technology.”

The Commander leaned forward and laced his fingers together. “If the situation continues to deteriorate, Germany will pull their funding from XCOM. I shouldn’t have to tell you what that would mean for the future.”

“Listen, Commander,” Habicht leaned forward as well. “I support you, as do most of my advisors. We know you’re our first and last line of defense. But I’m only one member of the Cabinet. There is little I can do.”

A humorless smile grew on the Commander’s face. “Not entirely correct. There is in fact, something you can do.”

He cocked his head. “I’m listening.”

“You oversee an intelligence agency, correct? Have you heard of the Hades Contingency?”

* * *

 

_Israel, Tel Aviv_

The burning sun and arid atmosphere was a sharp contrast to the fertile German land he’d visited only a few hours ago. It had taken some persuasion, but he believed that the Defense Minister would follow through if events further deteriorated. It wasn’t even close to ideal, but it might be necessary.

Big Sky had flown him to a military outpost where they’d been clear to land, out of the public eye. Several soldiers had escorted him by an armored car to the capital. He still wished he had arrived in a less…conspicuous way. The UN probably knew he was visiting now and would have questions. But it was understandable, Israel didn’t want to take chances with the Prime Minister’s life.

No one had told him where they were going, but since he knew they’d landed close to Tel Aviv, there were only a few logical places that would hold a secure meeting. Camp Rabin was one of the major bases of the Israel Defense Force, so it was plausible that was where he was headed.

The soldiers who sat beside him were garbed in desert gear with Kevlar helms and covered faces. Darkened ballistic goggles covered their eyes and each of them watched him suspiciously.

The car stopped and the soldiers motioned him out. He blinked as the suns rays assaulted him. But once the initial brightness had registered, he looked around. His guess had been correct, they were at Camp Rabin.

“This way.” The soldier behind him took the lead and the Commander followed.

The path they took was convoluted and nonsensical, but that was just protocol. Still, it was a bit infuriating to go past the same room two different times. He knew this was just a precaution, but it was growing tiresome quickly. They finally stopped in front of an unmarked door. The soldiers opened it and entered with him following close behind.

Dan Nowinski, Prime Minister of Israel stood with his back to the door, only turning around once the door had been closed. The man’s hawkish features, imposing presence, stern posture and ruthless grey eyes bespoke a man not to be trifled with. He may have been nearly sixty, as his silver hair showed, but he retained every ounce of intensity from his youth.

“Leave us.” He ordered, the deep tone leaving no room for questions.

The soldiers saluted and left the room, leaving them alone.

Nowinski appraised him. “You’re not who I expected.”

The Commander gave a brief smile. “And who did you expect?”

“A normal pawn of the UN,” the Prime Minister stated. “Someone like the puppet Van Doorn or one of watchdogs from the CIA or FBI. Someone beholden to the numerous interests and factions controlled by the United Nations.”

He took a step forward. “But I did not expect the Commander himself to be in charge, especially since you were said to have been executed.”

Hmm. It wasn’t entirely unexpected that the Prime Minister knew his identity. His team had crossed paths with the Mossad on several occasions. In fact, they’d given him captives and information several times. It was possible the Prime Minister had wanted to know who the elusive Commander was.

He kept his expression black, simply raising an eyebrow. Denying it would be pointless. “To be honest, neither did I. But even the UN knows when they’re outmatched.”

“Surprising,” Nowinski commented. “But not unwelcome. You did the world a great service many years ago. Perhaps you can do so again.”

“That is my hope.” The Commander agreed.

“Perhaps we can work together,” Nowinski clasped his hands behind his back. “Why did you wish to speak?”

“How familiar are you with the alien threat and XCOM in general?”

“We have not had much experience with the aliens,” he informed. “We know they exist, but they are keeping to themselves. Preparing, I assume. When they do attack, we will be ready.”

“I’m afraid you have no idea what you’ll be up against,” the Commander warned. “What you consider to be advanced is primitive compared to the technology they wield.”

 “I assume you would know more than I.” Nowinski admitted. “But that does not change our preparations. We have no choice.”

“And XCOM. How much do you know?”

“Only what the Mossad has been able to gather,” he answered. “Your organization is fairly small, but it contains the best people from around the world. You happen to have one of our best agents there, correct?”

“Mira Vauner,” the Commander confirmed. “Yes, she’s proved valuable to our efforts.”

“I should hope so,” he stated. “The Mossad Director wasn’t happy letting her go. But we considered it worth indulging the UN, especially if the alien threat is real.”

“The threat is very real,” the Commander affirmed. “XCOM is the only organization that can stand against them.”

“A bold claim,” Nowinski stated skeptically. “And one that I feel is exaggerated. Your organization contains less than one hundred people. Even if you fall, each country will rise up to defend the human race.”

The Commander snorted. “You and I both know that won’t happen. We’ve developed technology beyond any conventional weaponry. I can guarantee that a defeated XCOM will start a war for the leftover resources and weapons. The Council is divided now and XCOM is the only entity keeping them together. This is not mentioning the rest of the world. I know you’ve been eyeing the Middle East for an attempted conquest.”

“I presume the Council is the entity funding you,” he asked, ignoring the comment. “A section of the United Nations.”

“Yes. Some of whom aren’t happy I’m in charge.”

“I see,” Nowinski cocked his head. “So what do you want from me. Funding? Resources? Soldiers?”

“Preferably all the above,” the Commander nodded. “I’ve not allowed the Council to dictate my actions, but they have control over enough funding that I believe independence is an appropriate course of action. You may not believe it now, but I promise you, If XCOM falls, the world will follow.”

“And what does Israel gain from this?” he demanded. “What you ask is not insignificant. Nor can you expect us to provide more than the Council already does.”

“I wouldn’t expect any more than a normal country,” the Commander promised. “And I’m aware of the cost. But consider what _I_ can offer.”

He pulled out two flash drives, one black, and one white. “XCOM has developed technology and weapons that could benefit you. Some of which can be constructed without alien technology.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.” Nowinski demanded.

“Medicine that can heal almost any battlefield wound, computerized armor, weapons five years ahead of any now.”

Nowinski was clearly considering it. “What do you specifically wish from me?”

“Funding for certain,” the Commander began. “But you have something just as valuable. I want your best operatives from the Mossad and that includes the Kidon.”

“You ask much.”

“And I offer much in return. As well as the opportunity to take an active role in the defense of humanity.”

He frowned. “You make a convincing offer. But I would need to consult with my advisors before making a decision.”

The Commander nodded. “Understood. In the meantime…” he placed the flash drives on a table. “Consider these a gift. One has some of the schematics for the technology I described. The other contains footage from our soldiers’ armor cams. If you want to truly see what we face, I’d advise you to watch them.”

“Your gift is appreciated,” Nowinski nodded. “You will hear from me within two days.” He extended a hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Commander.”

He grasped the extended hand and inclined his head. “You as well, Prime Minister. I hope we can work together soon.”

“Likewise,” he nodded, then turned away. “My soldiers will escort you back to your place. Good day, Commander.”

The Commander felt pretty good as he was escorted out. All things considered, that was a successful meeting.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

Abby grasped her rifle and slung it on the back of her armor. The more time she spent wearing it, the more comfortable she became. It made her feel more…protected. Yes, that was the right word. Secure, armored, she knew more than most how fragile the body could be and anything that improved it usually made her feel better.

Well, she did have a reason for gearing up. The aliens were quiet for now, so she decided to take the time to improve her shooting. And hopefully find the silent sniper that she’d become more curious about. She’d had to get up far earlier than normal, but she figured that she should get used to it. The longer the war went on, the more she’d have to forgo sleep.

She brushed her hair behind her ears as she grasped her helmet and tucked it under her arm. Alright, she was ready. Taking care not to wake anyone else, she quietly exited the Barracks and headed towards the range.

The hallways were quiet as she walked through, most of the staff was likely sleeping as well. She kept going and blinked in surprise as Zhang came around the corner, focused on a tablet in his hand. She hadn’t seen him since both of them had spoken to the Commander. She’d assumed he’d be more involved with the soldiers, but he’d been focused on other things lately.

He spotted her and lowered the tablet. “Specialist Gertrude,” he greeted.

“Hello, Zhang,” she answered. “Haven’t seen you for a while. Wondered if you’d left.”

He shook his head, apparently not getting her lighter tone. “No, I’ve just been…occupied.”

“XCOM Intelligence,” Abby remembered. “How’s that coming along?”

“It’s about to turn for the better,” Zhang stated optimistically. “I have three operatives on an assignment and thanks to the Commander, will probably get some new agents soon.”

She nodded encouragingly. Then paused. “Hold on.” She said as something downed on her. “ _You_ have three operatives?”

“Ah,” Zhang answered. “Yes.”

“Umm…” Abby started uncertainly. “Just what position _did_ the Commander give you?”

“Intelligence Director.” Zhang answered as if just saying what the time was.

She blinked. “Wow. Congratulations. I just…didn’t, well, expect that. No wonder you had that look after the meeting.”

Zhang chuckled. “Yes, it was…surprising to me as well. The Commander has charged me with building XCOM Intelligence from the ground up. I have a few more issues to fix, then I’ll be approaching some of the soldiers for transfer.”

Quite a few of the soldiers had come from special forces or intelligence agencies, so that sounded like a smart plan. “Good thinking,” She told him. “Anyone in particular?”

He appraised her, his expression returning to its familiar stern expression. “I would prefer to keep that information to myself until I make final decisions.”

“Oh,” she raised a hand in apology. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pry too much.”

“Apology accepted,” he answered. “However, you should know that you’re on my list of potential agents.”

She was taken aback. “Me?” she sputtered. “I don’t know the first thing about espionage and subterfuge.”

He nodded. “Correct. You would have to be trained extensively. But you have potential, I would hate to waste it.”

She couldn’t think up a response so she stood there contemplating what she’d been told. “This isn’t final,” Zhang promised. “But know that you’re under consideration.” He began walking away. “I’ll let you go now. Take care, Specialist Gertrude.”

“Yeah,” Abby automatically responded. “Same to you.”

She shook her head and kept walking. What could Zhang possibly see in her that would even make him _consider_ using her when he had the likes of Liam, Mira and Myra? _Actual_ intelligence people, not _her_.

She was flattered, no question there. But it didn’t make sense. She was just learning how to be a soldier, much less learning how to sneak around and silently kill people. Maybe it was something else he saw…she considered herself fairly intelligent, but around here that didn’t mean much. What else…she was well-informed, observational and had an excellent memory. Was that all it took?

Nah, there had to be something else. _Although_ …Perhaps that question wasn’t serious and just said to throw her off. If that was true, then what could he possibly want to distract her from? Was it that he said the Commander somehow got Zhang more agents? Why would that be a problem unless the country was suspect?

She scowled. After that conversation in the mess hall, she didn’t have a high opinion of politics at the moment. All it did was make her depressed, something she thought she learned years ago.

She realized that the door to the range was before her. Clearing all the questions from her head, she pushed to door open.

She was in luck. The silent sniper stood at the far left of the range, exactly as she remembered, firing his sniper rifle methodically at dummies and paper targets. She reached back and grasped her own rifle and walked forward. She didn’t want to startle him, but didn’t feel comfortable hiding in the background until he took a break. Approaching in his line of sight would at least tell him she was here.

Luckily she didn’t have to make the first move. The sniper noticed her and stopped firing immediately and lowered his weapon. She took a deep breath, not quite sure how he’d respond. She gave a smile. “Hello.”

The only acknowledgement was him cocking his head to the right. Luckily, she had a decent cover for speaking to him. “I haven’t seen you for a few days,” she continued. “Have your wounds healed?”

He gave a brief nod and set down his rifle. He pulled the right gauntlet and rolled up the sleeve. Stepping closer, she could see some faint burn scars from the thin man poison, but they’d likely dissipate within a few weeks.

“Excellent,” she nodded. “Glad to see you’re healing.”

He put the gauntlet back on and kept his hidden gaze on her. The silence stretched until Abby sighed, she hated hiding her motives and was a terrible liar. “Ok,” she admitted. “I’m not only here to check on you.”

He made a circular motion with his hand, indicating for her to continue. “Listen,” she began hesitantly. “I’m not sure what your issue with speech is, it’s not my concern. But in the field, that isn’t really a good idea.”

He spread his palms out, it actually wasn’t hard to figure out the meaning. He was clearly wondering _“why?”_

“Because it isn’t safe,” she explained. “For you or the rest of the squad. Your position usually allows the squad to know of hostiles before meeting them. Kinda hard if said sniper doesn’t speak.”

With blinding speed he whipped out a pistol and fired towards the range. Abby looked over to see a hole in the center of one of the targets. “I get it,” she said, turning back to him. “You’re a good shot. That’s not my issue. Your silence isn’t going to help anyone.”

He fired the pistol without looking again, this time one of the dummies heads was hit. “What are you trying to say?” she asked. “You’ll shot all of them before they get close?”

He gave a brief nod. “And what happens when you miss?” She demanded.

She started as he raised the pistol at her and fired. Something grazed past her cheek and with trembling fingers touched the place the bullet had grazed. “Right…” she stuttered. “You don’t miss…” The sniper nodded and holstered the pistol.

Once her heartrate had subsided to a normal level she swallowed and continued. “Right, the point I want to make is that we need to develop some kind of communication system.”

He looked up at the ceiling, almost in contemplation, then looked back to her and nodded. He quickly made some fast motions with his hands. She shook her head. “I’m not going to recognize military hand signals. Though I suppose I could learn.”

[How about this?] She blinked as his hands moved in a way she hadn’t seen in ages.

“Do that again.” She asked, to make sure she was right.

He did it again. [Understand?]

“You know ASL?” She hadn’t meant to sound _quite_ so surprised.

He gave a nod, then pointed at her and gestured at his hands.

She believed she understood. “I’ve had to deal with disabled patients before. I’m not an expert, but I can understand enough.”

He gave another nod. “Why didn’t you just use that when I walked in?” she wondered with a frown.

He shrugged. [Inefficient] he signed. She tended to agree, it was a rather slow method unless the signer was exceptionally fast, which he clearly was not. He also seemed to favor gestures and motions rather than using sign language.

She looked around. “Why do you hide yourself? I wouldn’t have even know where to find you if not for the Commander.”

He shrugged again and was clearly contemplating how to convey what he wanted in a gesture or motion. Finding none, he simply signed [Controversy].

She frowned. “What controversy?”

He pointed at the symbol emblazoned on his collar and then pointed at her. She suddenly felt self-conscious about everything she’d said when he’d been around her, some of her comments hadn’t been so nice if she remembered correctly. Had he been listening the entire time?

She blushed. “Ah, I understand. Apologies if my opinion doesn’t quite match yours.”

He shook his head, pointed at her, then at his head. “I do have reasons,” Abby agreed. “But it’s wrong to automatically judge you for your past.”

He gave one nod and apparently decided the conversation was over as he grabbed his sniper rifle and began aiming again. Well, this had gone better than expected. She at least had a reliable way of communication, even if he was somewhat finicky with the usage.

But he wasn’t the only reason she’d come. Time to get _some_ practice in before the next deployment. She took aim and one of the closer dummies and fired once. The bullet tore through the chest. Not a kill.

It still took her a few shots before she got used to the recoil. That really needed to be worked on. But her shots weren’t _terrible_ , she was at least hitting the target. She continued shooting methodically, at least hitting the target most of the time.

A metallic tapping on the barrier separating her from the range distracted her and she looked over to see the sniper a few feet away. He motioned towards the rifle. She frowned. “You want it?” He nodded.

“Alright.” She handed it over, and watched him look it over for a few seconds before he began aiming. Then he fired, not a single shot like her, but short bursts. He aimed like a turret, moving from target to target, firing methodical bursts until the front and middle row targets were full of holes. He stopped and looked at her.

She wasn’t quite sure what that display was. He’d already shown he was a perfect shot, what was he- _Ah_.

“Bursts?” She questioned. “I should fire in bursts?”

He nodded.

It was so obvious, it was a wonder she hadn’t realized it before. In an actual fight she wasn’t going to be firing a single bullet per enemy. No, she’d be firing a _lot_ more than that.

“Thanks,” she told him sincerely. He nodded and offered the rifle back to her. She grasped it and began aiming again. This time she let out a burst instead of a single shot. Her rifle went all over the place, but at least some of the bullets hit their mark.

She fired again and the second burst was better, but still mostly inaccurate. She felt someone grab the barrel and she looked up to see the sniper grab the barrel to steady it. He moved her fingers to a different position, walked around and helped adjust the stock so it was more secure against her shoulder. She just let him, he clearly knew more about this than her. He nodded, ready for her to fire.

She did and there was a noticeable difference. The shot was overall bad, but she felt like she had more control over the weapon now. “Thanks,” she began, looking to where the sniper was, then paused.

One look around confirmed it. He was gone. She sighed.

“Thanks for the help,” she called out, if he was still in the room.

Well, she still intended to finish practicing. Now that she knew the proper way, hopefully she could actually improve her aim.

 


	17. Objective: Capture Sectoid

 

_The Citadel, Mission Control_

The Commander frowned at the glowing hologlobe. “It just landed?”

“Correct,” Bradford nodded. “We detected it half an hour ago. Based on low heat and energy signatures, it’s likely been there for a few hours.”

“How large?”

“About the size of the last one we raided.”

“Well, whatever they’re doing, we’re going to stop them.”

“I’ll prepare a skyranger,” Bradford promised. “I assume you’ll want to assemble a squad.”

“Yes,” the Commander nodded. “I’ll take care of that.”

Bradford made some notes on his tablet. “Got it. I assume your call with the Prime Minister went well?”

The Commander smiled. “That it did. We now have Israel as an ally. They’ll be sending several Mossad agents within a few days.”

“I’m sure Zhang will be happy,” Bradford shrugged. “Though I’m not sure we should be sharing our technology with them.”

“We’re sharing our _old_ technology,” the Commander corrected. “I’m well aware that Israel has their own agenda. We just have use them wisely, drip-feed our technology a little at a time.”

Bradford frowned. “That could backfire, the Prime Minister strikes me as someone who would not take kindly to being manipulated.”

“I wouldn’t call it manipulation yet,” the Commander amended. “Israel is benefitting more from our arrangement. For the moment. But once he receives some advanced schematics he’s going to run into a problem very quickly.”

Bradford pondered that. “Weapon fragments and alloys?”

The corners of the Commander’s lips turned up. “Correct. And barring him from sending out his own forces to fight aliens, there is only one place to acquire them.”

“XCOM.” Bradford stated.

“XCOM,” the Commander repeated. “And we may be so inclined to hand over some of ours, provided they give us something in exchange.”

“Still,” Bradford didn’t sound convinced. “What happens once he realizes he’s been played?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” the Commander assured him. “Nowinski is an intelligent leader, but he is predictable. His motivations are clear as day. He wants control of the Middle East and will go through quite a lot to ensure that happens. All we have to do in convince him we’re helping him reach that goal.”

Bradford leaned back. “But what happens when they _do_ decide they’re ready?” Bradford asked.

“They won’t,” the Commander shook his head. “Especially if their supply of fragments and alloys stops if they pull something as stupid as that.”

“Well, you’re the political expert here,” Bradford shrugged. “I’ll take your word for it.”

He nodded. “Very well. I’ll assemble a squad.”

Bradford nodded and he walked off.

There was another advantage of provide resources to Israel. The more he invested in their army, the more influence he held over it. If Israel ever developed laser weaponry, Nowinski would know exactly who to thank for it. And the more the Prime Minister relied on him, the more he could be manipulated.

Israel would be an excellent tool if other countries gave him issues and the best part was that it likely wouldn’t take much convincing for Nowinski to carry out his “requests”. The best allies were the ones who believed they were acting on their own. A risky move, but potentially gaining a second army was worth it.

But further planning would have to wait. Time to focus his attention on the aliens.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Training Area_

“Closer,” Liam encouraged. “Again.”

He pointed the pistol at Abby and she waited a few seconds before attempting the disarming technique. She was pretty fast, but it was nothing compared to his years of experience. He was generous and allowed her and extra second before counterattacking.

She was roughly halfway through the technique when he grabbed her arm, forced it behind her back, spun her around and pressed the pistol to her head. An audible click sounded.

“Dead.” He stated as he let her go.

She scowled. “You know, it’d be nice of you to let me win _once_.”

He appraised her. “A real enemy won’t go easy on you and neither will I. Aside from that, I did the first time, and only for you to become familiar with the technique.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’d think a few more practices would be in order before you completely humiliate me.”

He shrugged. “I’m slowing down considerably.”

She glared at him. “Thanks.”

“We should take a break,” he told her. “A quick one.”

She nodded vigorously. “Agreed.” Both of them walked to a table set off to the side with their water bottles resting on top. Liam took several quick swigs while Abby just gulped down as much as she could.

He appraised her. “So why the sudden interest in close combat techniques?”

She crossed her arms and bit her lip as she pondered how to respond. “I’m not sure you’d believe me.”

He cocked his head. So it wasn’t just idle curiosity, she had a deeper motive.

Interesting.

“Why?

Her lip twitched. “Have you met our Intelligence Director yet?”

He looked down and frowned. “I wasn’t aware we _had_ an Intelligence branch, let alone a director.”

She glanced at him, surprised. “How could _I_ possibly know before you?”

He shrugged. “You know more people.”

“Hmm, true,” she acknowledged, then shook her head. “Anyway, yeah, XCOM Intelligence is what I’ve heard it called.”

An intelligence branch. Not what he’d expected from a strictly paramilitary organization. From what he knew about the Commander, he was assuming that it would be devoted towards political issues, rather than the invasion as a whole.

“So who’s the director?” He asked.

“Zhang, if you can believe it,” she answered. “Didn’t know until I bumped into him the other night.”

The Triad operative? An interesting choice. Not a bad one either, judging from the stories he’d heard about the man. He’d likely do a good job, despite his strictness. Zhang reminded him of his former Russian directors. Impersonal, calculating and ruthless. Excellent traits for an intelligence director.

“A good choice,” Liam nodded. “Though unexpected.”

“Tell me about it,” she agreed. “Anyway, he mentioned something about asking some soldiers to transfer over. So I asked who was on his list.”

Liam had a pretty good idea where this was going. “Did he mention anyone specific?”

“He didn’t tell me any names,” she answered. “But he mentioned that I was under consideration.”

As expected. He wasn’t quite as incredulous as she was. He could see why Zhang thought she might work. She was quick, intelligent and rational. She had excellent memory and observational skills. Quite a bit of time and effort would have to be invested to make her competent, but it could be done. But there were several issues that should have her eliminated from consideration.

“Interesting,” he finally said. “I can see why he’d consider you. Also why it would be a mistake.”

“Glad you think so,” she shook her head. “I don’t know the first thing about intelligence work.”

He frowned. “You could learn. You’re smart enough to master whatever you needed. That isn’t the issue I see with you.”

“Then what?” she questioned.

He hesitated, not quite sure how to say it without sounding offensive. “Your personality. It isn’t suited for intelligence work.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Explain?”

He sighed. “You’re too…nice, caring and compassionate. Someone like that isn’t cut out to be an agent.”

“I don’t really see that as a good reason,” she frowned. “Are you saying that there aren’t any people like that in intelligence work?”

“Working as an agent isn’t like other military positions,” he explained. “You’ll be forced to do things you object to. Assassination, stealing, torture. I just can’t see you doing that.”

“If I somehow became an agent, I’d never work like that.” Abby promised vehemently.

She wasn’t the first person to say that. He nodded. “You would try. I’ve seen people like you say that before.”

“And what happened to them?”

“I’ve only seen two outcomes,” he told her. “They die or drop all their useless morals and preserve the ones that matter.”

She pondered that. “You were an intelligence agent, right? What was it like for you?”

Well, he had a feeling he’d be here for a while. He took a seat at the table and she took once beside him. “I was in a counter-terrorism unit,” he corrected. “Though that title is mostly symbolic now that terrorism is virtually eradicated.”

“There’s a difference?” She questioned.

He paused. “We were more militant and worked in larger groups. Intelligence branches usually never have groups larger than two. During the War on Terror, most of the Intelligence work was done by the GRU and we were just sent in to kill terrorists. I suppose in that way we operated similar to XCOM.”

She rested her chin on her fist. “GRU? That Russia’s intelligence agency?”

“Essentially,” he confirmed. “It’s the largest, but not the only one.”

She nodded and continued. “So you were more of a special forces unit.” She amended.

He nodded. “Yes. That’s more accurate. At least until the war ended.”

“So what happened afterwards?”

“The unit still existed,” Liam continued. “As did the name. But we were reorganized into an intelligence branch answering to the GRU. Since we had more combat experience and training, we were often assigned target elimination missions.”

“You were an assassin?” Abby asked.

“On occasion,” he admitted. “Everyone in the unit became known as ‘CT’ agents, experts in the art of killing. Though that wasn’t all we did. Some of us were assigned to more traditional intelligence work.”

“When you say traditional,” Abby motioned with her hand.” You mean…”

“What you’d imagine,” Liam answered. “Counter-intelligence, information gathering, undercover work.”

“You never did that?” She asked, resting her elbows on the table.

“I wouldn’t say _never_ ,” he amended. “But I was never good with subtlety or manipulation. If I ever went undercover, it was usually as a bodyguard or hired muscle to get close to my target. You’d be surprised how many people expect guards to be idiots, though it worked in my favor many times.”

“But you were fine with that?” she pressed. “Just being an assassin?”

That question there was a prime reason she’d be a terrible operative. “My targets were criminals, rapists, human traffickers and traitors.” He shrugged. “Yes, I was fine with it. Do you disagree?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I get your reasoning, I do. But it just seems so…authoritarian. That’s not how justice should work. You never considered arresting them?”

His lips pursed. “There were two reasons I didn’t. The first being that I was _ordered_ to kill them. The second is that I didn’t want to take them alive.”

“But wouldn’t it have been the legal thing to do?” she continued. “Russia does have a justice system, right?”

“I prefer letting the justice system be reserved for crimes that are truly worth investigating,” he answered, harsher than he meant to. “I have no interest in risking my life for clearly guilty criminals.”

“But how do you know?” she persisted. “How do you know your superiors aren’t just using you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t.”

She leaned forward, her eyes showing her incomprehension. “And you’re fine with that?”

“Not entirely,” he answered honestly. “But I trust my superiors to not use me frivolously. Do I wonder if they tell me the truth? Certainly. But this is another reality of intelligence work,” he leaned forward for emphasis. “You don’t ask questions. Certainly _not_ in Russia.”

She sighed. “I suppose this is your subtle way of telling me not to take it if it’s offered?”

“That decision is up to you,” he answered slowly, leaning back. “But you should know what you’re getting into. Would you be fine with working months undercover with no contact? Are you willing to murder people on command? Would you break under interrogation? How far would you go to complete your mission?

These are all questions you need to ask yourself. The work of an intelligence agent isn’t glamorous or even remotely clean.” He shook his head. “I don’t see you being able to make the choices needed in that field. Even if you did, you wouldn’t be the same person afterwards.”

She was silent.

“Don’t accept it because you feel you have to,” Liam warned. “Don’t take it lightly. You’re a doctor. You save lives. Not end them.”

She turned her hands over. “I don’t know if I can say that anymore. I certainly feel like I’ve taken more life than saved recently. Maybe not human life, but does it matter?”

He shook his head. “I’m the wrong person to ask. I feel nothing fighting those that wish to eradicate our species. Any guilt I felt about killing died long ago. You’ll have to decide boundaries for yourself. No one else can.”

She picked up the practice pistol and turned it over, admiring how the light shown off the steel casing. “But if my talents are more suited to taking life, would cultivating them be best? Especially since this war may decide the fate of our species? Is it selfish of me to throw it away just because I don’t want to become a killer?”

 “Again, only you can answer that,” Liam told her. “But remember that there is a personal cost that some aren’t willing to pay.”

There was silence between them for a few minutes. Abby shook her head violently. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to drop all that on you. But ever since I knew that this is a possibility, I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured her. “You shouldn’t make a decision like this lightly. Don’t just ask me, there are others who could help you get a more accurate picture.”

Abby chuckled. “Who? Mira?”

“I wouldn’t dismiss her,” Liam warned. “She was part of the Kidon, if anyone knows about the hardships of intelligence work, it would be her.”

“Well, I may be getting worked up for no reason,” Abby smiled. “This is just from a sentence from Zhang. It probably won’t happen.”

A sentence from a man who happened to be the Director of XCOM Intelligence. A man who also thought it worth mentioning that she was being considered. Why mention it if there was little chance she’d be chosen? No, he had a feeling that Abby was going to have to make a choice soon and that decision would define her for the rest of her life.

While he personally didn’t think she was emotionally capable, objectively, she had all the right skills for the position. But from experience, he only saw few endings if she decided to take it, none of them good. She would drop out, which would probably be for the best. It wouldn’t be unrealistic for her to develop mental issues from the acts she would have to commit. The things she would have to do could break her and he doubted she would be in a state to effectively fight.

The most likely outcome was that she would die. She simply didn’t have what it took.

But there was another possible outcome. Instead of it breaking her, she would thrive in the world of lies and secrets. Leading to her becoming an emotionless, ruthless, intelligent killer.  He wondered if that was the true reason Zhang was interested in her, if he could change her enough, she had the potential to be one of the most dangerous agents conceived.

Warping someone’s personality to the degree was exceedingly difficult and often went wrong. Push too hard and you broke them. Don’t push enough and they only became more entrenched in their beliefs. It was easiest with mind-altering drugs and sedatives, but those often carried dangerous side effect. But he’d seen it happen several times and the result had been unnerving. If Zhang had something like that planned for Abby…he wasn’t sure if he liked that. Warping the woman before him to that degree seemed…unnatural and…wrong.

But possible.

Or perhaps he was just being paranoid. Another side effect of intelligence work. He didn’t let these thoughts show on his face. He gave Abby a small smile. “Well, do you want to keep training?”

She returned his smile. “Yeah, maybe this time I can get it.”

They stood and made their way back to the training mat when the wristband Liam was wearing started buzzing. He glanced down and shut it off. Turning to Abby, he gave an apologetic smile. “I’m needed.”

She nodded. “Alright. Come back in one piece. Remember, you still need to teach me this.”

He attempted to imitate the Commander’s salute to her, it seemed fitting for some reason. “I have no intention of dying today. Goodbye, Abby.”

Then he turned away, his mind already focusing on the mission ahead.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Hanger Bay_

The new rifle felt unnaturally light. It wasn’t _that_ much smaller than normal, but it still felt wrong to him. Weapons needed some kind of substance, and right now, he felt he was handling a toy. A powerful toy, yes, but a toy nonetheless.

The charger he’d attached to his belt was also strange. The brief description given was that it was used to charge the cells that powered the laser weapons. Once a cell was depleted, it had to be put in the charger and left for at least fifteen seconds, longer if he wanted sustained power.

He wished he could test out the weapons before actually going into combat. But from the briefing given, it sounded like this was time-sensitive and the laser weapons had literally just been finished.

The Squad Overseer position fell to him this time, a choice no doubt motivated by his experience clearing hostile areas. He was looking forward to leading a team again. Assuming a supporting role was refreshing, but it wasn’t his strength.

The door to the hanger slid open and he saw several soldiers had beaten him to the skyranger. He’d donned his helmet, but the two soldiers talking held their under their arms. Patricia was currently on the receiving end of a particularly talkative soldier. She was clearly annoyed, but the young man chittering was either too blind or insensitive to notice.

She snapped to attention as he approached, the man stopped talking and assumed a more professional stance. He was easily the youngest Liam had seen here, younger than Abby which was unexpected. Clearly of Middle-Eastern descent, he seemed an easily excitable individual.

“Overseer,” Patricia greeted and she donned her helmet. “Ready on your order.”

“Who is this,” he nodded towards the man who extended a hand.

“Martin El-Amin,” he answered excitedly. “A pleasure to meet you, Overseer.”

“You as well.” He responded neutrally as he took the extended hand.

Martin appraised him. “I confess, I always thought the stories exaggerated, but I have to say, looking at you, the rumors about the CT agents make a lot more sense.”

Liam raised an eyebrow inside his helmet. Was that intended to be a compliment? “The stories serve their purpose.” He responded slowly.

Martin smiled. “Really? So how many are true?”

That was _not_ a line of questioning he wanted to start. “You’ll have to be more specific,” he answered, trying not to appear patronizing. “And I might not answer everything.”

“Oh sure,” he said easily. “Classified stuff and all that. So was it true that the Ukraine was destabilized by only two CT agents?”

The kid had a very poor grasp of the word _classified_ if he thought he was _actually_ going to answer that. It had actually been five CT agents, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Classified.”

He actually looked crestfallen. “Oh, well ok. Is it true that a portion of the unit defected after the president was assassinated?”

“False.” He stated. There had been only three known defectors, not a significant number by any means. One of the first tasks he’d been assigned was hunting down those traitors.

“Really?” Martin asked with a raised eyebrow. “So is it also false that a defected CT agent was responsible for the rise of organized crime in Moscow?”

Liam glanced over at Patricia who gave a little shake of her head essentially signifying _“This is your problem now.”_ Did this kid actually think he was going to reveal this? The fact that it was true didn’t really factor in.

“Classified.”

Martin stroked his chin as he thought up another likely inane question. His face brightened. “Do all CT agents raise a dog from birth, train with it, then kill it as a sign of their loyalty?”

Patricia looked over with, he imagined, a horrified expression under her helmet. Liam had to snort. Like killing a dog _actually_ proved loyalty. If anything, that little trick normally evoked the opposite. The _actually_ loyalty test made far more sense, in his opinion.

Potential recruits were given a name with orders to execute said individual. Nothing else. No background, age, race, sex or record. The targets were sometimes elderly, sometimes they were children.

Though to his knowledge, the only time when the CT unit ever assigned child targets, they were almost always criminals, a fact that was important to distinguish. Anyone above eighteen was considered fair game. The target could be innocent, or they could not, you didn’t know and that was the point. Having assigned targets to potential recruits several times, he knew that the targets were specifically chosen based upon the recruit’s psychological profile.

He’d personally tried to assign targets with previous criminal history. Children were off-limits and the elderly didn’t present enough of a challenge. But he knew several men and woman who preferred being certain of the recruit’s loyalty and willingness to follow orders.

Well, no reason for this kid to know that.

“False,” he answered, then cocked his head. “Where do you come from anyway?”

“I proudly served as part of the IRGC!” he stated excitedly.

Oh. That was bad. Before the War on Terror, the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps was unofficially the internal military of Iran. Their purpose was mostly political, sometimes putting down protests and revolutions, but chief of its duties was enforcing the Islamic system.

The years following the War on Terror had seen the IRGC take on a far greater role, especially since Iran was one of the last bastions of the Islamic faith. They had ultimate power, the citizens lived in fear of them and each action was sanctioned by the government as long as the peace was kept. Any and all deviance was heavily punished all in accordance with Sharia Law.

He didn’t feel it wise to mention to the kid that the CT unit had performed several operations against the Iranian government and IRGC in particular.

“Take some advice kid,” Liam told him. “Be very careful who you tell that to.”

He frowned. “Why is that a problem? Are you not proud to serve your country?”

Was he really so naïve? “There are quite a few people who have strong feelings about your country. It’s best to avoid an argument when you can.”

“But-“

“I’d listen to him,” Patricia interrupted, her voice cold. “Many of us don’t like dictators.”

“The Supreme Leader is not-“

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Liam advised. “Otherwise you’ll soon be challenged in the training area.”

He shoot a dismissive glance at Patricia. “Against her? I’m sure there would be someone more…” he searched for the right word. “… _Qualified_ to face me.”

Hmm. He was half-tempted to let the livid Patricia beat him to her hearts content. But that wasn’t a good idea before a mission. It wasn’t entirely his fault, he lived in a culture where women didn’t fight and everyone praised the Supreme Leader. But he’d better drop those outdated opinions unless he wanted to get hurt.

He raised a hand at Patricia. “Save it for the aliens,” he told her, then directed his gaze towards Martin. “As for you, there is one rumor that _is_ correct.”

“Oh?” he cocked his head. “What is it?”

“The CT unit did have a favorite target,” he continued. “People who talk too much.”

Martin opened and closed his mouth several times, but apparently got the message. Patricia had her helm on and gave him a nod of approval. He heard the door hiss open behind him and the rest of the squad came in.

Luke, and two new soldiers. Rob Gorman and Yvette Estrada, he’d met them briefly in the barracks. They seemed like decent people. Now it was time to see what they could really do. Riley Ignis lead the way, her aviation helm already donned and she saluted as she approached.

“Ready when you are, Overseer.”

He gave a nod. “We’re ready now,” he addressed the rest of the squad. “Form up! We’re heading out!”

“Yes, Overseer!” They shouted in chorus as they marched up the ramp into the skyranger.

* * *

 

_Skyranger, En Route to LZ_

Liam seated himself closest towards the ramp. Patricia took the seat opposite him and Luke sat down beside her. As luck would have it, the young Iranian had decided to sit next to him. Well, he wasn’t going to be answering any more questions from him at the moment. It was time to focus on the mission.

The skyranger shuddered as it went airborne. Each of them had strapped in, at least for the initial launch. He was used to it now, it was always interesting seeing how the new soldiers reacted to the first ride in the skyranger. Nothing drastic ever happened, each of them were professional soldiers, but they had varying degrees of tolerance.

This batch seemed fine, no tightened grips or tense postures. They seemed as relaxed as he was. Good, it indicated decent composure.

“Listen up.” He ordered after a few minutes airborne, not loudly, but enough to get their attention. Each soldier turned their heads to him.

“The Commander will give the full briefing,” Liam continued. “In the meantime, this is what we know. XCOM Analysis picked up another UFO on the ground, we’re being sent to stop whatever its doing.”

“So this wasn’t shot down.” Luke confirmed.

He gave a nod. “Correct. It appears fully function. We don’t know why it landed, but it’s not anything good.”

“So they’ll be well-defended.” Patricia stated.

“Likely,” Liam agreed. “We don’t know what the crew compliment it, but based on previous assaults, expect sectoids, drones, and outsiders.”

Yvette chuckled. “We’ll have something for them.” She said as he patted her laser rifle.

“The new weapons do not make you invincible,” Liam warned sharply. “Never rely on technology to ensure victory. Overconfidence will kill you as much as an alien weapon.”

“Right. Got it,” Yvette answered, subdued.

Liam nodded and unstrapped. None of them needed it now and followed suit. He leaned forward. “Now, we have some new people, so for those that don’t know…” he nodded forward. “Patricia Trask, Royal Marines.”

He kept going down the line. “Luke Warner, former German olympian.” Luke gave a small wave at that.

“Rob Gorman, United States Marine Corps.” The man nodded back at him.

“Yvette Estrada,” he motioned towards the woman at the far end. “Honduras Army.” She just crossed her arms and gave a brief nod.

“And Martin El-Amin,” he introduced carefully. “Iranian military.” He prayed the kid kept his mouth shut, at least for now. Luckily, he seemed to have got the hint and gave a brief nod in acknowledgment.

“As for me, Liam Jaster, former Russian Counter-Terrorism Unit. CT if you prefer.”

“So you’re actually _the_ Luke Warner?” Martin asked incredulously, leaning forward. “What are you doing here?”

Luke sighed, and Liam got the feeling he’d been asked this before and was tired of answering. “I really should just have business card or something. But I’ll say it again, it’s personal.”

Liam could visualize the frown forming on the young man’s face. _Please don’t press_ , he asked in his head. Luckily he decided to restrain whatever question was burning in his head and sat back. Truth be told, Liam _was_ actually interested in why the olympian was here. Not that Luke had performed poorly, just the opposite. But people like him didn’t just end up here by accident.

He actually thought about inquiring with the Kremlin and GRU about Luke and seeing what they had on him. Based on what he knew of the man’s personality, it was plausible to assume that the olympian had been diagnosed with an illness, likely terminal. It would provide a legitimate reason for being here, but Liam got the impression that more was going on.

For starters, why be so secretive about it? Did he simply not want to deal with sympathy that would no doubt come from people who knew? Possibly, but it wasn’t a very sound reason. Regardless, he was pretty sure Luke wasn’t going to tell anyone. If he’d wanted to do it, it’d be done by now.

Or maybe he’d tell Mira. He knew they’d talked several times and Mira had oddly carried on conversations with him. Abby had asked Luke several times what they’d talked about but he gotten rather defensive and told her to talk with Mira herself. Liam had found that interesting, especially since Mira had openly admitted she didn’t have, or make friends.

Which made him inclined to think that Mira had an angle of her own for speaking with Luke. Even if he didn’t know much about her personally, she was part of the Kidon. They were manipulators and liars by nature and just because she was working with XCOM now didn’t change that. He’d only had the displeasure of encountering a Kidon agent once, and that one operative had warranted a three CT agent response.  The man on his own had somehow set up a network of informers so vast that he’d even managed to set low-level informers within the Kremlin itself.

Unfortunately, even after killing him, it couldn’t be proven he actually _was_ part of the Kidon, but they’d interrogated enough informers and gathered enough evidence to make a fairly educated guess. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to publically call out Israel.

Mira was dangerous but not for the reasons everyone assumed. He suspected that she was still reporting to the Mossad Director on the capabilities of XCOM. People like her weren’t just allowed to leave. The Commander had to know she was a security risk.

Not that there was anything he could personally do. Not now. He would fight alongside her, he’d even follow her orders and try to keep her alive.

But he would never trust her.

The Commander’s voice interrupted his train of thought. Brushing thoughts of Mira away, he focused on what he was saying.

_“This is the Commander to Falcon Team. XCOM Analysis has located a UFO that has landed in the Washington wilderness. Burning Sky will be landing in a clearing not far from your destination. Your mission has two objectives. The first is to eliminate all hostile alien forces at the landing site. The second is perhaps more important, I want you to capture a sectoid. Alive.”_

The squad looked around at each other at that. Liam frowned. “That is taking a risk, especially with their psionics.”

_“I’m aware of the risk. But a live alien is needed to advance our research and understanding of their technology. Vahlen assures me that the application of blunt force to the head will incapacitate the sectoid.”_

“And how will it be transported back?” Patricia asked.

_“Artifact Recovery will take possession of the sectoid. All you need to do is subdue and restrain it.”_

That might complicate things. “We might not get the chance,” he warned the Commander. “Especially since the aliens are likely to be prepared for an attack. It will be difficult to capture one in an extended firefight.”

_“Perhaps. But I believe you can do it. This UFO appears to be the same size as the last one, so expect at the least sectoids, drones, outsiders and possibly thin men and the seekers.”_

Seekers. He assumed those were the mechanical cloaking units. An appropriate name.

“Understood,” he stated. “Expect a captive shortly.”

_“I expect nothing less. Good luck, Falcon Team. Citadel Command, out.”_

“This’ll be fun,” Luke quipped. “Let’s hope there aren’t many aliens there.”

“I’ll decide our plan of attack once we touch down,” Liam told them. “Once we know how many there are, we can proceed.”

“Copy that, CT.” Martin answered excitedly. Liam frowned at the name he’d been called, but decided to ignore it. For now. They flew in silence for a few minutes.

_“This is Burning Sky to Squad Overseer Jaster. We’re about to touch down in two minutes, prepare your squad to deploy.”_

“Acknowledged, Burning Sky,” He answered. “We’ll be ready.”

He stood as he physically felt the skyranger loose altitude. The rest of the squad followed suit. He reached back and readied his rifle, the red pulsing glow providing a foreboding illumination as the rest of the squad pulled out their weapons. The new recruits gripped the handles above as the descent started.

The running timer in his head was getting close. “Thirty seconds,” he warned. “Lock down vocoders.”

 _“Five seconds.”_ Came the voice of Burning Sky.

The skyranger shuddered as it touched down and with a hiss and squeal, the ramp lowered onto the tall grass.

“Deploy!” Liam ordered and weapons raised, they charged into the field.

* * *

 

The skyranger took off a few seconds after all of them were on the ground. Liam motioned them all forward through the tall grass until they reached the edge of the forest. Each of them took some cover behind the stumps and trees and he motioned for them to hold.

“This is Squad Overseer Jaster to Citadel Command,” he informed. “We’ve touched down and are ready to proceed. Awaiting confirmation.”

_“Permission granted. Good luck.”_

“Acknowledged. Squad Overseer Jaster, out.” Now that the formality was out of the way, he surveyed the area. The forest was dense and overgrown, the trees would provide excellent cover, but all the dry brush on the ground would make it difficult to approach undetected. His HUD showed that the UFO coordinates were dead ahead. He had a direction.

Now how best to approach it?

The ideal scenario would be a three-pronged approach, two groups would circle around to the sides while he took the front. It would effectively flank anyone out in the open, but it relied heavily on the aliens being concentrated in the front. The other issue was that there simply weren’t enough of them to safely send them out into groups.

He wasn’t comfortable with groups of two, especially with the threat of the seekers. No, if there was going to be any division, it would be in groups of three. But for now, best to stay together.

“Forward,” he ordered. “Slowly _. Quietly.”_

He saw nods of acknowledgement and his team entered the forest. They kept low and moved slowly through the leaves and plants. The trees swayed from the wind, the sound somewhat obscuring their own.

Patricia held up a fist. They froze. “Listen.”

They looked around. Then Liam heard it, a low pulsing hum. He could almost feel it, which meant that a UFO was near. He nodded towards her. “I hear it too. Be ready.”

They continued, weapons raised and ready to fire. Liam saw a glimmering in the distance and that the trees thinned out soon. “On the ground,” he motioned down as he lowered himself down. The rest of the team followed suit. The crawling approach would take more time, but it was essential if they wanted to launch a surprise attack.

They crawled and slugged through the dirt and grime but eventually reached the edge where Liam got his first good look at the UFO. The small clearing was dotted with stumps, indicating that the aliens had cut down everything in order to land. Strangely, all the cuts were smooth and charred, suggesting that their removal had been done surgically and with lasers.

He had to admit, an undamaged UFO was an impressive sight. The hull gleamed with a silvery otherworldly sheen, unlike any metal he’d ever seen. The multicolored energy fields covered the entrance and the corners, forming a nearly perfect circle. The aliens had also set up fortifications in front, blocks of a duller metal were placed strategically before the entrance.

As for the aliens, he spotted six sectoids around the area. Unlike the ones he’d seen before, these seemed to be performing specific and observational tasks. Two appeared to be taking some sort of sample from the soil. Two were gathering flora and plants and one was…

He blinked in interest. One of the sectoids had his arm extended to one of the bobcats that populated the area. He looked closely and spotted an almost invisible tendril flowing from the head of the sectoid to the bobcat. The odd thing was that neither party seemed particularly hostile. Did this mean that the aliens could utilize some kind of mind control? Or could they only do that on animals?

Yvette saw the odd pair and snorted. “Cute.”

“Quiet.” He muttered as he kept looking.

There was only one sectoid that looked ready to fight. It was the same size as the others, but the plasma weapon attached to it’s wrist was even more intrusive. Instead of just a small implant, a sleeve of metal ran the length of it’s spindly arm and the actual weapon had a longer and larger barrel with an ominous green glow from the center.

Strange that the aliens had only decided to upgrade only part of the arm instead of the entire body. It must have been a resource issue, reserved only for certain sectoids, presumably the leaders. Regardless, this sectoid was clearly the most dangerous of them all.

“Look up.” Martin muttered.

He did and frowned. The reason for the alien’s lack of concern became clear. Above the UFO, drones circled, watching for any signs of approach. Lucky that they’d been on the ground, otherwise they might have been spotted. It also appeared that the sectoid hadn’t been the only thing improved.

Five of the watchful drones were the same as before, save for the one in the middle. It looked exactly like the smaller drones, but twice as large. That might pose a problem. He scanned the area for more aliens.

Nothing. Either the outsiders weren’t showing themselves or there weren’t any on the UFO. He thought back to the previous assaults. The Commander believed that the outsiders acted as something as a security system for the UFOs. If that was the case, they’d only come out when activated by the aliens or a system was tripped.

He nodded to himself. It _was_ a solid theory. Unfortunately, they didn’t have proof. Not to mention they didn’t know if the outsiders could be activated by _any_ alien or a specific one. Regardless, he had a plan of attack.

“Here’s what we’re doing,” he told them. “Two teams: Me, Martin and Luke and Patricia Yvette and Rob. I’ll take the left side, Patricia you take the right. We angle around the UFO and catch them in a crossfire. They don’t seem to be working urgently, so proceed slowly.”

“Understood,” Patricia replied. “Priority targets once we settle?”

“The sectoids are the primary threat,” he answered. “I’d prefer we capture the leader, but that may be too dangerous. Get into position and I’ll give further orders.”

“Got it,” Patricia motioned to the two assigned to her. “Follow me. Stay low.”

Liam and his team kept to the ground as they methodically circled around the UFO. Luke then miss-stepped and a twig snapped, the sharp crack louder than it had any right to be.

They froze. Liam heard a sectoid chitter. If they found them this was going to go south _very_ fast. “Patricia,” he whispered. “Do you have eyes on the sectoids?”

_“Hold on…yes. One of them is looking in your direction.”_

Damn it. “Is it moving closer?”

_“Negative…ok, it’s turning back. I think you’re good.”_

“Thanks.” They kept going, Liam noted that Luke was being _much_ more careful where he moved now. Good.

They finally reached what he considered an ideal position. “Get into cover.” He ordered. They took cover behind some of the many tree available, his cover indicator seemed to think it was a good choice. He wasn’t so sure. The cover indicator had some odd ideas about what was considered good cover or not.

“Patricia, are you in position?”

 _“Affirmative,”_ was the response. _“We have sights on the sectoids.”_

“Don’t forget about the drones.” Luke warned.

He had a point. But given how Shawn was able to take down three of them just by himself and how easy their attacks were to dodge, he wasn’t that worried about them. The large one was an issue, but the others were negligible.

He considered. Patricia had the most powerful weapon of them all and Luke had the least. The rest of them had regular laser rifles. The drone likely had the heaviest armor, so Patricia was the obvious choice to take it out.

“Patricia, can you take out the drone?”

 _“Checking,”_ There was a pause. _“My HUD says an eighty-nine percent chance. So I’d say yes.”_

“Excellent.” Since Luke had the lightest weapon, that made him the prime candidate to incapacitate the sectoid. “Luke, can you get our sectoid captive?”

Luke eyed the group. “Depends. I might have problems with the leader.”

“Don’t worry about the leader,” Liam assured him. “It’s too dangerous to try a capture,” He indicated the sectoid entrancing the bobcat. “What about that one?”

Luke nodded. “Got it.”

“Patricia, have Rob and Yvette take out the two closest to you,” he instructed.

_“Got it.”_

“Luke, target the one collecting soil samples. Martin, target the one beside him. I’ve got the leader.”

“Understood, CT.” Martin nodded.

“Take aim.” he ordered as he raised his rifle. The information he’d read about the laser weapons had said that applying the barest amount of pressure to the trigger would simulate a laser sight. He did and a small red dot appeared on the sectoid leader’s head.

“Fire.”

A crackling beam of red energy burst from his rifle into the unprotected sectoid’s head. Unable to react, it had no chance as the bean burned a hole clean through it’s brain. Liam ceased the beam as it fell to the ground, dead.

Threat neutralized.

Red beams fired from Patricia’s position as the two sectoids were executed with deadly precision. Laser bursts tore into the large drone, causing it to spark and shudder. It wasn’t quite dead, but one more blast would finish it.

 _“It’s up, but damaged.”_ Patricia confirmed.

Luke had hit his target, though not killed it. Instead the beam had hit the arm and severed it off. The sectoid let out a high-pitched scream as Luke lined up a killing shot.

“Missed.” Martin stated.

Unfortunate. But no use berating him. The drones were coming down and starting to rain laser bolts down on them. The sectoid with the bobcat pointed at them and with a hiss, the bobcat charged him. The same sectoid scattered away to cover on all fours.

“Concentrate fire on the wounded one.” Liam ordered them as he turned his attention to the charging bobcat. The snarling feline’s naturally golden eyes had been turned to a purple color, likely a side effect of the mind control. He fired and sustained the beam, using it as a blade and sliced the creature in half, the charred and cauterized remains falling to the ground.

He discharged the power cell and replaced it with a fresh one. He aimed at the massive drone, but pulled back as plasma fire slammed into a nearby tree. He snarled and aimed down to see the beast controlling sectoid taking shots at him. He fired several quick blasts at it to keep it down.

The sectoids needed to be neutralized _now_ before they started using their psionics.

“Target down!” Martin yelled.

“Keep the pressure on the last one!” Liam ordered. “Luke, subdue the other one now!”

“Suppressing!” Martin yelled as he fired short laser bursts at the cowering alien.

Luke took the opportunity and started dashing towards the covered sectoid. The alien raised it’s weapon and Liam fired several distracting bursts, all of which missed. Unperturbed, the sectoid fired the weapon, the first two shots missing and the third clipping his left arm.

“Argh!” He heard Luke grunt, but he kept going. Leaping over the cover, he raised his rifle and slammed the butt into the sectoid’s cranium. The creature fell to the ground with a squeal. Luke slammed the weapon down again to be sure.

“He’s out!” Luke shouted while he scrambled to find cover as the drones started firing at him.

“Gonna need to reload soon!” Martin yelled. Liam directed his weapon on the final sectoid.

“Reload, I’ll keep him covered.” Liam ordered as he began firing. The area around the sectoid was covered in scorch marks and the metal cube was starting to crack.

Patricia was in control of the air battle. The drones were sparking and falling from the sky. The large one was still up, but appeared to have some self-repair protocols as it wasn’t sparking anymore. Two drones still remained along with the large one.

“Luke, start moving into a flanking position on the remaining sectoid,” Liam ordered while suppressing.

 _“Scatter!”_ He heard Patricia yell frantically. He looked at the large drone to see it visibly gathering power. A few seconds later an orange sustained beam fired towards Patricia’s team. The beam sliced through the trees and turned the brush and leaves to ash. Patricia barely dodged the beam, only surviving by leaping to the side. Rob and Yvette hit the ground and the beam dissipated a few seconds later.

“New priority,” Liam told them. “Target the drone! Martin, suppress the sectoid.”

 _“With pleasure.”_ Patricia responded and the night sky was soon lit up with burning red beams of crackling energy. Patricia’s autolaser hit one the smaller drones and Rob took out the remaining one.

He took a few seconds to aim at the drone when he spotted something. The shimmering energy field covering the UFO entrance dissipated and two outsiders walked out.

“Outsiders!” he shouted and redirected his weapon at one of them.

The crystalline beings just stood there and observed the light show. Why weren’t they moving into cover? Well, their funeral. He focused on the rightmost one and fired.

The beam hit the outsider, but didn’t seem to be doing anything. The area he’d hit was glowing a brighter orange, but otherwise it didn’t look like it had been hurt.

The outsider looked in his direction and raised it’s hand. The orange light traveled up it’s arm until it consolidated in the raised palm. It released the gathered energy which sped past him and slammed into a tree, setting it aflame.

_Oh, that’s bad._

“They’re immune to lasers!” He shouted as the outsiders started taking aim at the squad. An explosion distracted him and he saw the massive drone fall from the sky.

“It’s a little too hot here!” Luke shouted. “I’m using a grenade!”

“Reloading!” Martin shouted.

A grenade and resounding squeal told him that the final sectoid was dead. Now how to deal with the outsiders?

They weren’t even bothering to take cover. Even though it didn’t work, the squad was firing at them even though the outsiders absorbed the energy and shot it right back.

“Retreat!” he called.

 _“Copy.”_ Patricia informed him. _“Falling back.”_

He fired a sustained beam at the outsider, which seemed to slow it. The glowing orange field grew larger and larger but eventually his weapon ran out of energy. Once he stopped the outsider used the stored power and shot several bursts from it’s palm.

As trees burst into flame around him he hunkered behind a tree. Hmm…he had an idea. Shooting them seemed to make them slow down, so what if they _all_ concentrated fire on a single one. “Concentrate fire on the leftmost outsider!” He ordered as he took aim. “Sustained fire!”

The outsiders made it ludicrously easy to aim and Liam’s beam was soon joined with Martin’s and Luke’s. Then Rob’s and Yvette’s. The outsider began glowing as it’s crystalline body absorbed the energy. As more energy was poured in, cracks began appearing on it.

 _It can’t contain the energy!_ Liam realized. His plan had been to freeze the outsider and have Patricia throw a grenade, but that wasn’t necessary now.

“Patricia! Shoot it!”

Several more bursts slammed into the outsider and that finished it. With the sound of breaking glass, the outsider shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Reload!” Liam ordered. “Quickly!” The other outsider immediately realized that it _wasn’t_ invincible and began dashing to cover.

“No you don’t.” Liam snarled and pulled out his laser pistol and fired a sustained beam. The crackling energy beam didn’t do much, but it slowed it for the precious few seconds it took everyone to reload. Another beam joined and Liam quickly switched out the power cells as more beams filled the outsider with energy.

He added his own to the mix as the outsider started cracking and a few seconds later, burst into pieces.

There was silence. Each of them hesitantly got up from their cover and walked towards Liam.

“I honestly thought we were going to die.” Luke shook his head as he looked at the shattered outsider.

“I don’t think anyone expect that laser weapons would actually _hinder_ us.” Yvette pointed out. “Good think CT here figured it out. How’d you do it?”

He shrugged. “By accident. I just noticed they seemed to slow when a laser was shot into them. I just kept going.”

“Well, good job!” Martin congratulated. “I think we owe at least _some_ of our lives to your quick thinking.”

He looked down at the young man. “Thank you. Now,” he turned to the rest of them. “Secure the area and let’s get that sectoid ready for Vahlen!”

There was a chorus of affirmations as Falcon team moved to secure the sectoid and UFO for XCOM. Liam paused before joining them.

“This is Squad Overseer Jaster to Citadel Command. That appears to be the last of them, tell Vahlen we’ve got a present for her.”

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Coming Oracle

_Personnel:_

Falcon 1 ( _Squad Overseer)_ : Specialist Liam Jaster

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 2

Falcon 2 – Specialist Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 3

Falcon 3 – Specialist Luke Warner

            **Status:** Wounded (Estimated 3 Days)

 **Kills:** 2

Falcon 4 – Private Martin El-Amin

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 2

Falcon 5 – Private Yvette Estrada

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 2

Falcon 6 – Private Rob Gorman

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:**  2

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Riley Ignis – Call sign: “Burning Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-1x Modified Sectoid Corpse (Moderate Damage)

-3x Sectoid Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-1x Sectoid Corpses (Unsalvageable)

-1x Sectoid Captive

-5x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-1x Enhanced Drone Wreck (Moderate Damage)

-2x Jars of Outsider Pieces

-4x Alien Flight Computers

-1x Alien Power Source

-50 Alien Weapon Fragments (Stripped from UFO and fallen aliens)

-200 Alien Alloys (Stripped from UFO)

-4x Canisters of Unidentified Alien Substance

 

 

 

 


	18. Council Mission: France

 

 

 

_The Citadel, Practice Range_

 

Shawn raised the laser rifle and took aim at one of dummies. They’d added some new ones since the last time he’d been here. Outsiders, thin men and even some hanging drones now populated the range. It was a good thing the dummies were so cheap, otherwise they would eventually be reduced to shooting at traditional paper targets with how many dummies were utterly destroyed by the laser weapons.

 

Still, it was pretty fun.

 

He took aim at the outsider and fired. The beam tore through the cheap cardboard and once he ceased firing, took a small amount of pleasure at the charred hole in the chest, then snorted. Unfortunate that this wasn’t exactly a good test of fighting outsiders, since all they did was absorb the energy and shoot it back.

 

He had absolutely no idea of the physics behind the lasers, but did wonder if it would be better to replace the outsider target with something more…appropriate? Maybe a glass or crystal structure? Anything to demonstrate the futility of shooting them without a group. Nah, the Commander would probably decide it was too expensive.

 

“Nice shot,” Carmelita congratulated, walking up beside him. “Your aim isn’t bad.”

 

He rolled his eyes at her and took a step back. “I shot _once_ ‘Lita. Don’t you think you should wait a little bit longer before praising my aim?”

 

She lightly rubbed his arm. “Considering you could barely sit up a few weeks ago, I’d say this isn’t bad.”

 

She had a point. He’d healed pretty quickly by most standards, only being bedridden for two weeks instead of Abby’s projected eighteen days. Though she’d been basing it off _not_ using XCOM tech, which ended up helping significantly. And of course, the exact hour he’d been discharged by Abby, Carmelita had decided to drag him here to ‘get him back into shape.’

 

 Not that he minded at all. He’d been initially surprised that she’d taken an interest in him at first, but eventually just accepted it. They’d talked quite a bit over the past couple weeks, nothing really that he’d consider personal, at least for her. He was still wary of bring that up with her. But pretty much everything else. XCOM, funny military stories, favorite things, speculating on who the mysterious sniper was and how long it was going to be before the Iranian kid got beaten up.

 

Fun stuff. On her request, he had told her his (admittedly boring) life story. He was still figuring out what topics to avoid with her, so he’d held off asking more detailed questions about her. He was certainly curious, no doubt about that, but he didn’t want to get into that until she was comfortable.

 

“Well,” he smiled at her. “Let’s try this a few more times. Thirty seconds, whoever shoots more targets wins.”

 

She raised an eyebrow as she readied her rifle. “That isn’t even close too fair.”

 

“You that afraid of losing?” He teased.

 

“More afraid of destroying all your confidence,” she amended. “That isn’t very nice.”

 

“C’mon, both of us know you’re the better shot. No need to be nice.”

 

She sighed. “Your funeral,” she raised her rifle and began looking down the sights. “Ready?”

 

He set his watch for thirty seconds then trained his rifle on one of the thin men dummies. “Ready. Three, two one, _go._ ”

 

The range filled with the sound of discharging lasers as they started firing. Shawn went from target to target, shooting one quick burst at a time. He only missed twice and had to reload once, not bad so far. His watch buzzed.

 

“Stop!” He ordered.

 

The range grew quiet. He quickly counted the dummies he’d hit. Ten. Pretty good. He was about to make some comment about it when he heard Carmelita’s soft laugh. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked over to see her with her hand across her mouth trying to suppress her laugh.

 

He crossed his arms. “Alright. What is it? I don’t think I did _that_ bad.”

 

She shook her head and pointed to the half of the range she’d been aiming at. He looked and was initially confused as to _where_ the targets were when he realized that they _were_ still there, just horizontally bisected. “You did not,” he stated in disbelief.

 

Carmelita just stood there, not even trying to stop laughing. “That’s cheating.” He told her.

 

“No it’s not,” she managed. “You never said I _couldn’t_ use a sustained beam.”

 

He glared at her. “I thought that _didn’t_ need to be said.”

 

She walked up and hooked his arm in hers. “I warned you not to challenge me.”

 

“I expected you to win,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to _cheat_.”

 

“It wasn’t cheating,” she repeated with a smile. “You set the rules, remember.”

 

He scowled. “I’ll remember that next time,” he warned her. “Of course, you’ll probably just find some other technicality.”

 

“You’d better get used to it,” she told him. “I’ve _very_ good at that.”

 

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Oh, fine. I suppose that’ll be useful one day.”

 

She chuckled and stepped back. He felt slightly disappointed as she pulled her arm away, but she’d done it in the first place, so he really couldn’t complain. “Come on,” she gestured to him. “I think we’ve destroyed enough of the range for one day.”

 

“Sorry, _we_?”

 

“Correction. _I’ve_ destroyed enough of the range for one day.”

 

“Much better.”

 

He slung the rifle over his XCOM-issue military fatigues, joined her and together they walked out the door. She still held hers ready, a habit he’d noticed a while ago. She was very uncomfortable going anywhere unarmed, the only times he’d seen her without a weapon were when she’d visited him in the infirmary. Even then he suspected she just left them outside the room.

 

He saw several engineers and maintenance personnel as they walked through the hallways. One of the unique characteristics of the Citadel that he felt was overlooked was that nothing was really covered up. Almost all the hallways literally just had lighting and a steel floor, leaving the walls bare. It was a constant reminded that they were inside a mountain. Lucky he wasn’t claustrophobic.

 

“So what do think the aliens are doing now?” Carmelita asked suddenly.

 

He pondered that for a few seconds. “Reevaluating their life choices, hopefully.” he answered lightly. He looked over and the smile died as he looked at her expression.

 

“It was a serious question,” she said quietly.

 

He coughed. “Sorry. Let me think for a second.” They kept walking in silence as he thought.

 

“I don’t really know,” he finally continued. “I mean, they’ve been pretty quiet ever since we raided that landed UFO. What’s happened since? Two abductions? Three? If I had to guess, they finally realizing we can fight them and win.”

 

She pursed her lips. “I think so too. And that worries me.”

 

He spotted an unoccupied table in the hallway and lightly tapped her on the shoulder and motioned towards it. She nodded and they moved in that direction. He’d only seen her this serious once before and he was pretty sure it had been one of the first time’s they’d had a full conversation. Something must be really worrying her.

 

They sat down and he rested his elbow on the table and his head on the fist. “Ok. Is it bothering you that much?”

 

She crossed her arms and rested them on the table. “Yeah. It is.” He waited for her to continue. “You’re out of the loop on some recent events going on.”

 

He frowned. “Germany? I know the situation isn’t good.”

 

She nodded. “Germany is a big part. The situation seems to have stabilized somewhat, thankfully. But the stuff happening there isn’t pretty.”

 

“Explain?” he asked.

 

She made a circular motion with her hand. “This can’t last forever. Eventually someone’s going to break and either way is bad.”

 

Shawn shook his head. “As much trouble as protestors cause, if things get violent the government can just send in the military.”

 

She scowled. “That’s what I’m afraid of. And you know what? That’s the _good_ outcome. At least then the government is still in control.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to what? The protesters storming Berlin and taking over?”

 

“I don’t think these are regular protestors,” she admitted. “Organized protesting is difficult, but done correctly, it can be very powerful. The military hasn’t done anything yet. Who says they’ll start after the Cabinet is dead?”

 

“So what are you saying?”

 

She sighed. “I think the aliens are going to do something in Germany. And I’m not sure we’ll be able to stop them.”

 

“Hey now,” he chided. “We’ve beaten them before. We’ll do it if they’re stupid enough to try anything in Germany.”

 

“I wish I were as certain,” she answered softly. “But from experience, when a superior enemy stops treating you as a nuisance and decide you are a threat, the lesser side always loses.”

 

From experience. He hesitated before continuing further. “When you say that do you mean…”

 

“Yeah,” she preempted. “North Korea. Free a couple hundred prisoners, assassinate some low ranking officers or even destroy a few vehicles and they only make statements decrying the “terrorist threat.” Even if we never targeted civilians. But the second we disabled or destroyed a critical piece of infrastructure or knock out half the power to Pyongyang, well, then you’re in trouble.”

 

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. “Have you read my file?”

 

He had to chuckle at that. “I’m not sure I have clearance to read my _own_ file, let alone yours. Why?”

 

She pursed her lips. “If you had, you would have seen that my alleged employment in the 707th isn’t exactly true. I am _officially_ part of it, but I’ve been part of four major black ops teams before.”

 

“Four,” he repeated.

 

The corners of her lips turned up. “Another misleading statement. In actuality, it’s the same team, just renamed four times.” She looked to side as she continued in a subdued tone. “It followed a pattern. We’d start small, only cause minor problems and generally just be a pain. But there was one target we decided on in each iteration, one ultimate goal.

 

We always succeeded, but that event always brought the full power of the North Korean government down on us. No matter how hard we prepared, they always found us and most of us died. What followed was the South Korean government disavowing us, something we all came to expect, then the slow regrouping of survivors. We then recruited fresh faces and a few months later, repeated the procedure over again.”

 

He was silent for a few minutes. “That must have been hard for you.” He finally said softly.

 

She shrugged. “It was. At first. But everyone knew what they were signing up for, everyone knew they might die, I think that made it easier. You learn to never take your friends for granted.”

 

He gave a small smile. “I agree on that.”

 

She looked over at a couple engineers walking down the hallway. “Well, I just hope the Commander has a plan to deal with Germany if or when it falls. Not to mention the aliens.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Shawn assured her. “If anyone’s got a plan, it’ll be him.”

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

 

“Over the past two weeks Zhang has been putting his agents in positions,” the Commander began once they were all gathered. “We now have solid information coming from Germany. Zhang?”

 

The Director of XCOM Intelligence stepped forward. The Commander noted with interest that that Zhang wore the XCOM dress uniform. The first time he’d worn it, in fact. He made for a commanding figure, and it meant what he had to share was big.

 

Zhang had been keeping him updated throughout the past two weeks and had been saying he was making progress. Intelligence operations took time, but he had privately wondered if Zhang could do the job in time.

 

Turned out there was no need for worry. Zhang had come to him saying they had actionable intel. The Commander had then immediately assembled the Council.

 

“My agents have identified four major causes of the instigation in Germany,” Zhang began, tapping on his tablet. “The rallies and protests are led by these three individuals.” Three images came up, one of a light-skinned male with brown hair, age couldn’t have been more than twenty. An older Caucasian female, with flowing black hair, likely mid-thirties. The last one was a dark-skinned male with a full beard and short black hair, age was likely mid-twenties.

 

The Commander knew all this information was in their profiles, but it was a mental exercise of his. He was curious how close his assumptions were. “Adam Halle, Corinna Rademaker and Lammert Holst,” Zhang identified. “All vocal opponents of the governments censorship and treatment of it’s citizens. Also loudly demanding answers regarding the alien technology.”

 

“So typical protestors,” the Commander noted.

 

“Upon first glance, yes,” Zhang agreed. “But each group is highly organized for a supposed protest group. I believe a few of the leaders are figureheads, while the real power is held with the advisors.”

 

“Let’s start with the first one,” Vahlen suggested.

 

Zhang gave a curt nod. “Agreed. First on the list: Adam Halle, current student at Bard College, heavily involved in the student government program. Age 20, living with his girlfriend on campus.”

 

“He could be legitimate,” Shen suggested. “From his history, a protest wouldn’t be out of the question. Especially since students are into these sorts of things.”

 

“What is his command structure like?” Bradford asked.

 

Zhang snorted. “This kid has no ‘command structure.’ He has a small group of friends with whom he makes plans with. He uses social media to make his announcements, though the government censorship has cracked down significantly. He now relies on his significant student support base to spread word of his rallies.”

 

“How much influence does his girlfriend have?” the Commander questioned, resting his hands on the holotable.

 

“A large amount,” Zhang admitted. “But she checks out. They’ve been together three years and they share almost the exact views. _This_ is who we’ve identified as dangerous.”

 

A new portrait popped up. This one was a man of tan colored skin, black hair and roughly the same age as Halle. “Jochern Schwarz,” Zhang identified. “Recent friend who is heavily involved with planning the rallies and protests.”

 

“Background?” the Commander asked.

 

“Also a student, no criminal record, age twenty, currently single. That isn’t what makes him suspicious.” Zhang tapped his tablet again and an image of two shadowy figures appeared. The smaller figure he guess was Jochern, but the taller one he didn’t know. The man was well dressed, in a black business suit and pants, which stood out in contrast to his blonde hair.

 

“He’s met this man several times over the past few weeks,” Zhang continued. “They speak for a few minutes and the man gives him a file. What it contains, we aren’t sure.”

 

“So he’s either informing on them, or receiving orders,” The Commander mused. “Interesting.”

 

“Have you identified the man he was speaking to?” Vahlen asked.

 

“No,” Zhang shook his head. “We were unable to identify him. I ordered the agent to pull back once he became suspicious.”

 

“So what do you recommend?” The Commander asked.

 

“Capture the kid and bring him in for interrogation.” Zhang stated.

 

The Commander nodded. “Noted. Continue with the next person.”

 

Zhang flipped to the image of the woman. “Corinna Rademaker, former businesswoman. Lost her job when she was accused of embezzlement. She was cleared, but the damage was done. Age thirty-five, single and nothing to lose.”

 

“Sad.” Shen commented.

 

“Say that once I’m finished,” Zhang continued. “Her protests and rallies are the most efficiently run of the three. She has a grasp of choke points and layouts rivaling those in the military. She sends her people to block major roads, disrupt government business and cut off access to hospitals and medical centers.”

 

“That’s risky,” Bradford commented. “Blocking access of hospitals is a sure way to get people against you.”

 

“She smart and knows that,” Zhang answered. “And she’s used it effectively several times. Several police officers were wounded in a shootout. She found out and organized her people to delay the ambulance as much as possible. All the wounded officers died and no one can factually say it was her fault.”

 

“Harsh,” the Commander commented. “Anything else?”

 

“One of my agents has made it into her inner circle,” Zhang informed them. “Corinna runs a tight ship. She has three advisors, including my agent and he describes their planning room as ‘Similar to a military situation room.’ He also says that she has full access to the city schematics, explaining how she can make such calculated moves.”

 

“He didn’t take pictures?” Bradford asked.

 

“She doesn’t allow any personal electronic devices past a certain point.” Zhang explained.

 

“So she’s being funded.” The Commander stated.

 

“Yes,” Zhang confirmed. “Anytime an issue relating to funding, manpower or resources comes up, she says that her backers will provide what she needs.”

 

“Can your agent bring her in?” the Commander asked.

 

The corners of Zhangs lips turned up. “He can.”

 

“Good to know. Final one?”

 

“Lammert Holst,” Zhang introduced as he brought up the picture. “An activist who spends all his time campaigning for various causes, ranging from environmental to animal rights. Single, twenty-seven. He’s nearly been charged several times with inciting riots and what he’s done so far backs it up. His rallies are the most dangerous of them all. Several clashes with riot polices have left nearly fifty wounded.”

 

“So what is he?” Vahlen asked. “Puppet or instigator.”

 

Zhangs tone turned harsh. “Traitor. This image was taken from one of his rallies.” A new image filled the screen. Lammert stood in front of hundreds of people, a fist raised in unison with the crowd. Behind him were people who he assumed were advisors or friends. But the closest one something they all recognized.

 

“A thin man.” Bradford stated.

 

“Undoubtedly,” Zhang agreed. “We’ve been unable to determine if he is actively working with the aliens or simply being manipulated by them.”

 

“At least we have confirmation the aliens are involved,” Shen muttered. “Perhaps we can put this ridiculous notion of the Council instigating this away.”

 

“Two of the three instigators are receiving orders and funding from somewhere else,” the Commander reminded him. “It may not be the Council, but I’m not convinced it’s the aliens either.” He looked over at Zhang. “You said there were four reasons. What is the last one?”

 

Zhang tapped on his tablet. “Each of these protestors, while disruptive on their own, wouldn’t have gained nearly as much tractor without the coverage of Germany’s largest television station, ZDF.” A logo of the company appeared behind on the screen.

 

“Since the unrest started, ZDF has covered the event for an abnormally long time,” Zhang continued. “They run specials covering the protests at least once every day and usually more than that. Due to their size, they’ve influenced the smaller channels to follow suit.”

 

The Commander frowned. “As unpleasant as it may be, this might simply be due to ratings. They’ve no doubt skyrocketed since this started.”

 

“Agreed,” Zhang stated. “But I had one of my operatives check it out.” A new image appeared, an older Caucasian man with a neatly trimmed beard and slicked back white hair. “Artur Wernher,” Zhang stated. “Director General of the ZDF. He effectively decides what is shown. Everything is approved by him at least once.”

 

“I assume you have something?” Shen asked.

 

“Possibly,” Zhang responded and pulled up another picture. “He’s met with this man several times over the past few weeks. I’ve not been able to identify him –“

 

“I know him.”

 

Everyone turned to look at the Commander. He took a breath.

 

He looked at the image again to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. No. It was definitely the same man. “Do you have any more pictures?” He demanded

 

Zhang nodded and flipped through some more. Yep, there was no doubt.

 

“Patrick Rush,” the Commander stated. “United Nations Liaison.”

 

“Are you certain?” Bradford demanded.

 

  
_Oh, I am_. The Commander thought furiously as he struggled to contain his emotions. This was one instance where he _didn’t_ want to jump to conclusions. He could be friends with Wernher, they could be discussing the terrible state of Germany and how to help. This could be a massive coincidence.

 

But he had the feeling it wasn’t.

 

“I’m certain,” he managed. “He was the one who asked me to take command of the XCOM project.”

 

There was dead silence.

 

“So…what does this mean?” Vahlen asked tentatively.

 

The Commander leaned down, resting his hands on the holotable. “Zhang,” he said softly without looking up. “Can we capture them? Alive?”

 

“Schwarz, Rademaker, Holst and Wernher? We can.” Zhang affirmed.

 

The Commander stood back up. “Then I propose we do so. Effective immediately. All in favor?”

 

Everyone, even Shen, raised their hands. “Then it’s settled.” He turned to Zhang. “Make the arrangements. I want them brought in as soon as possible.”

 

Zhang nodded. “It will be done.”

 

“Dismissed.”

 

They filed out leaving the Commander alone. With the exception of Vahlen who walked over to him. She waited until the door closed before leaning against the holotable. “Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

 

He let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I can’t just ignore them especially with part of the Council aligned against me.”

 

“Remember that the aliens are involved too.” Vahlen reminded him. “They could be setting this up.”

 

He took a breath. “The thing is, the Council fits the evidence we have now best. There is a man in a business suit having a kid spy for him. Admittedly could be anyone, but who else would be interested? With Rademaker, again, who would care enough to fund a ruthless protestor in Germany? Not to mention have the funding to actually _do_ so.”

 

“It could be another country.” She suggested.

 

“Who?” He asked. “What country could gain anything from Germany’s fall? North Korea is the only plausible option and when I say _plausible_ I mean strictly in resource terms. There is literally no non-Council nation that could sustain an operation like this in Germany for this long. Israel is the other, but they’ve allied with us, not to mention they have no issue with Germany.”

 

He looked up at her. “I’m sorry. I should be asking how _you’re_ doing. This is _your_ country we’re discussing.”

 

She ran a hand through her hair. “Yes,” she answered softly. “It is. And when we find the miststück responsible for bringing my country to destruction, I will ensure they die a slow, painful death.” The venom practically dripped from her voice, she’d never gotten this agitated before. But she was right and he fully endorsed her.

 

“Hey,” he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “That’s a last resort, remember? I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

 

She sighed, then looked at him and held out her arms. He took the hint and hugged her. They stood like that for a few seconds.

 

“I believe you,” she said as he held her. “But it seems the entire world and beyond is against us.”

 

They separated and Vahlen rested back on the table, her cheeks slightly red. He smiled. “Perhaps, but it’s not the first time the world has allied against me.”

 

“I hope you’re right.” She answered then pushed herself up. “I’ll let you get back to work now. Thanks, Commander.”

 

“Anytime, Moira.” He answered sincerely as she walked out the door.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

 

Zhang certainly had some interesting ideas about who would make a good XCOM agent. The Commander leaned back while reviewing the list on his tablet. He didn’t know when Zhang was going to bring them on, but assumed it would be once the Germany situation had been resolved.

 

Frankly, he didn’t see much need for some of these choices, especially since Israel was providing Mossad and Kidon agents for XCOM. But he wasn’t directing, and Zhang had to make his own decisions.

 

A light flashed on his intercom. Hmm…who could that be? Bradford?

 

He tapped the button. “This is the Commander. Go ahead.”

 

  
_“Commander,”_ Bradford answered. _“We’ve got a priority message coming in from the Council.”_

 

The Commander frowned. He wasn’t expecting the Council to call for a while. Since they hadn’t mentioned his meeting with Israel, he’d begun to think they’d either missed it or it didn’t bother them as much as he assumed. Had something come up?

 

“I’ll take it,” he told Bradford. “Thanks.”

 

He ended the call and turned on the screen to receive the signal. The static eventually gave way to the familiar harsh blue lighting and silhouetted councilor. The shoulder length hair indicated who he was talking to. Wonderful.

 

“Speaker,” he greeted cordially. “A pleasure to see you, as always.”

 

He was slightly impressed that he’d managed to make that sound sincere.

 

  
_“Commander,”_ she greeted. _“It is…good…to see you again, especially since we parted under rather…unpleasant…circumstances.”_

 

Ah, right. The business with Zhang. “I presume your colleague shared my reasons?” He asked.

 

  
_“He did,”_ she answered neutrally. _“The Council agreed it would be detrimental to prosecute you over this…disagreement. Do not expect us to be so lenient in the future.”_

 

Prosecute? Was that the best she could manage? He suspected the term she wanted to use was _court-marshal_ , though she may not have been smart enough to realize the difference. Ironically, the more she threatened him, the less afraid he became. Idle threats and intimidation had clearly not worked on him, yet she still persisted.

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Of course, Speaker. Any decision that I think the Council will deem controversial will _certainly_ be passed directly to them. Their input is something I _deeply_ value.”

 

He did admit that it was fun to toy with the female Speaker. It was something of a tradition between them now, how best to eloquently insult and intimidate each other. She wasn’t that bad at it either. Wordplay, at least.

 

  
_“The Council appreciates your commitment to them,”_ the Speaker answered. _“Though some of your…activities…are causing concern within the Council.”_

 

He pretended to frown. “I don’t understand. Have _I_ done something that the Council disapproves of? If so I _deeply_ regret it so very much.”

 

Hmm…he wondered if he was making it a little too obvious.

 

  
_“Your inability to take this seriously only serves to reinforce m-the Council’s opinion of you,”_ she bit out. _“You would be wise to take this seriously.”_

 

“I assure you, Speaker,” he answered with a smile. “I am as serious as the situation demands. Now unless you have a point to make, I have a rather precarious situation in Germany to fix."

 

The Councilor leaned back at that. _“The situation in Germany is outside your jurisdiction, Commander. You are to focus on the alien threat. The United Nations is handling the situation.”_

 

He thought back to what he’d seen. “Yes, you certainly have the situation under control,” he said with the barest hint of sarcasm. Then he shook his head. The Speaker couldn’t lock him out with technicalities this time. “But in this case I’m afraid you’re incorrect. We have confirmed alien involvement in Germany. I will send the Council proof if you wish.”

 

She was silent for a few seconds. _“That is…good news,”_ she answered grudgingly. _“The Council requests everything you have gathered. We will handle the situation from here. You need to focus on the alien threat.”_

 

“No.”

 

The silhouette cocked her head. _“Excuse me.”_

 

“No.” he repeated. “I will not cease operations in Germany, especially since the aliens are involved. This is my jurisdiction as much as yours and I will not have you doom the country simply because you don’t like me. I will work _with_ the Council, but I will not abandon my position because of _politics_.”

 

  
_“You would defy another direct order from the Council?”_ She demanded.

 

He smiled. “I’m fairly certain that this isn’t an order, Speaker. This is you using your position to limit my reach. I’m fairly certain some councilors would be appalled at your suggestion to me. Unless of course the German councilor _prefers_ his country this way. Am I wrong?”

 

_“I speak for the Council-“_

 

“Not very well,” he interrupted. “Good speakers tell both sides, not just the one they favor.” He held up a hand. “Now do you have something to say? Because I have matters to attend to.”

 

He audibly heard her breathe and apparently compose herself. _“A convoy in France was attacked nearly nine hours ago. We suspect alien activity.”_

 

He grew more serious. “Understood. Do we have any idea why they were attacked?”

 

_“Unknown. The convoy was carrying some avalanche missiles, but it’s unlikely that the aliens need those, even if they want to reverse-engineer our technology.”_

 

Hmm. Something didn’t add up. “How many knew about the convoy?”

 

_“Aside from those deployed, the Council, and Minister of Defense and his advisors.”_

 

“I’ll send out a squad,” the Commander promised. “We’ll recover what we can.”

 

The Speaker nodded. _“Excellent. We hope your mission is…successful.”_

 

“Your concern is touching,” he answered. Inclining his head. “Is there anything else?”

 

  
_“Yes.”_ She folded her hands. _“The Council encourages you to end your alliance with Israel.”_

 

And there it was.

 

He sighed. “And just _why_ should I refuse the help of a country who wishes to eliminate the alien threat?”

 

_“Israel is an unstable force. We know that you’ve provided them some resources and with those they could turn them on the Middle East.”_

 

For once the Speaker had what he considered a legitimate concern. “I’m well aware of Israel’s goals,” he informed her. “However, the Prime Minister understands the threat facing us and will not start a war now.”

 

_“And if you’re wrong? We cannot afford a war at this point.”_

 

“I assure you, Speaker,” the Commander reassured. “I have contingencies in the event Israel, or any other nation, attempts to start a war.”

 

_“Be that as it may, the Council asks that you end your alliance.”_

 

“No,” he answered bluntly. “I will only end the alliance if they give me a reason to do so. Unless you can provide me with proof, nothing will change between us. Do you have any?”

 

_“The Council-“_

 

“The _Council_ can make their recommendations all they want,” he interrupted. “But the fact is that _I’m_ leading the defense of Earth. I will not turn away help because you disapprove of their policies.”

 

  
_“I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything different,”_ the Speaker stated bitterly. _“You and the Prime Minister have much in common.”_

 

“On certain issues, yes,” the Commander admitted. “However, there is one major difference. He is unwilling to work with those he dislikes. I am. Good day Speaker, I’ll send you the information regarding Germany and the results once we secure the area. Tell your colleague I said hello.”

 

With that he hung up. That was satisfying. Now for more important matters.

 

He turned to his table and began making arrangements for the mission to France.

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Training Area_

 

The weekly sparring sessions were something Shawn stayed far away from. From participating, at least. It was very entertaining watching the matches, and very impressive too. He’d had a grand total of one match and had somehow thought that he could go up against Liam Jaster, who’d quickly shown him how outmatched he was. The entire fight had barely lasted a minute and since then he’d stayed out.

 

Well, it had been a couple of weeks and he wondered if the dynamic had changed at all. Carmelita had told him she’d taken part in some of the matches and he was curious to see how she fared against some of the veterans. He was getting close to the Training area when he spotted something.

 

A door that was slightly ajar, which normally wouldn’t draw much attention, except that this door had no handle and would have completely blended into the wall had it been closed. Shawn hesitated. Now, he knew it _was_ probably a bad idea to investigate strange rooms.

 

Then again, he’d been stuck in a bed for two weeks. He could have _some_ fun right?

 

He cautiously pushed the door open and groped for a light switch. Turned out it wasn’t needed as the lights came on automatically, revealing the room. Shawn whistled. He couldn’t believe his luck.

 

The room was very small, about the size of a small bedroom, with only a bare bed and table at opposing corners. But the interesting part was the weapons rack opposing the bed. On it was one of the new laser sniper rifles and pistol. Right next to it was a locker. He hesitated, then shrugged. Well, he’d already gone in this far, might as well keep going.

 

He opened the locker and smiled. He’d been right. He’d found the lair of the mysterious sniper. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything even remotely revealing and it appeared the sniper took no chances about his identity even in his own living space. Shawn looked over at the bare table, aside from a pen holder.

 

  
_Hmm._ He looked at the helmet and back at the table. He brightened as he had what was perhaps his best and worst idea of all time. Should he do it? It’s not like the sniper was _actually_ going to know who did it…right? And even if he did, he wasn’t going to _say_ anything.

 

  
_No, he’ll likely eviscerate you in your sleep._ A little voice warned him.

 

He mentally shrugged. _You only live once_ , he shot back and grabbed a yellow sharpie from the pen holder and made some improvements to the armor. He chuckled at his handiwork and decided he’d better get out of here before someone caught him.

 

Luckily no one was in the hallway and he quickly closed the door as much as possible than briskly strode towards the training area. Already he could hear the shouts and grunts of the people fighting. He opened the door and stepped in.

 

This time of day was usually pretty full, but the majority of people were roughly centered around the sparring mat. He spotted Carmelita and made his way over to her.

 

“Hey,” he greeted coming up beside her. She looked up at him and smiled.

 

“Hey yourself. You actually decided to come.”

 

“Why so surprised?” He asked jokingly.

 

“After you told me of your last, ah, ‘ _fight,’_ you didn’t seem inclined to return.”

 

He smiled. “Oh, I’m just here to watch.”

 

She lightly punched his arm and returned to watching the match. “What did I miss?” he asked.

 

“Liam finally got that Iranian kid to come,” she answered. “He’s actually not that bad.”

 

Shawn watched the two men fighting, he assumed the smaller one was Marten and it looked like the larger one was….hmm…he didn’t recognize him. “Who’s he fighting?” he muttered.

 

“Rob Gorman,” she responded. “He came the same time as me.”

 

Right. Anyway, Rob appeared to be losing the fight. Marten was much faster and nimbler than he was, and Rob simply didn’t have the speed to counter his fast strikes. It took a few minutes but the kid slowly wore down his opponent with hard and unblockable punches to his armor.

 

With a groan, Rob sank to one knee and Marten violently backhanded him across his protective mask, the force slamming him to the ground.

 

“Alright, I concede!” he groaned as he rolled over to get up. The soldiers around the room gave a brief smattering of applause, including Shawn and Carmelita. A smiling Marten pulled up his mask and walked over and extended a hand to the defeated soldier. He accepted and got up with his help.

 

“Not too bad,” Marten admitted. “You almost hit me a few times.”

 

Rob frowned and opened his mouth and paused, apparently not sure if he was being insulted or not. Shawn wasn’t sure either, to be honest. If anyone else said that, it’d definitely be taken as an insult, but Marten was so _sincere_ when he said it. Shawn snorted, the kid definitely had a high opinion of himself if that was the case.

 

“Alright,” Patricia interrupted. “Marten you’re new so here’s how this works; someone else can challenge you and that’ll continue until you lose or no one else wants to fight. Understand?”

 

“Yep!” He responded enthusiastically. He looked around. “Who’s next?”

 

That got a chuckle out of some of the soldiers. He was sort of endearing in his self-assurance. Shawn saw several getting ready when Carmelita stepped forward. “I will.” She said sweetly.

 

He raised an eyebrow in interest at her but stepped aside to let her move forward. Marten actually looked surprised and frowned. “You? Are you…sure…about this?”

 

Shawn inwardly groaned. _Stop now._ He thought. _Just stop before you get hurt._ Carmelita smiled, she knew exactly what she was doing. “Why yes. Are _you_ sure?”

 

He snorted. “Certainly,” he stepped back and clasped his hands behind his back. “Very well. I dislike hitting woman, but perhaps you can learn something from this.”

 

Now _he_ was getting tempted to fight the kid. Well, Carmelita had it handled. The kid was in for a _very_ rude awakening.

 

“Don’t worry,” she promised softly as she stepped on the mat. “I won’t hurt you _too_ badly.”

 

Marten didn’t seem to like that. “Enough.” He stated as he pulled his mask down. “We begin now.”

 

Marten put his fist up in a classic defense position while Carmelita just stood idly, waiting for him to make the first move. A few seconds later he charged and let loose a flurry of punches and kicks.

 

Several connected but Carmelita dodged the blocked the rest with blinding speed. Marten didn’t let up the attack, raining down blow after blow, each of which she expertly blocked. Marten tried grabbing her collar and she landed her first punch by socking him in the jaw.

 

He stumbled back, but otherwise seemed unhurt. He had to give Marten credit, he did have some skill. Marten charged her again, his attacks far more coordinated than the first flurry, hands, elbows, knees and feet moving in a sequence he had trouble following. She blocked him in an equally impressive sequence.

 

Then she leapt to the side and kicked the side of his knee which elicited a grunt of pain from him. He corrected himself and adjusted his stance to favor is uninjured leg. Carmelita let barely let him get into position before launching an attack of her own. He managed to block some of the blow, but not all of them and he kept losing ground to her relentless assault.

 

The force of the attacks forced him to one knee as he lashed out with a final, furious punch. Carmelita pivoted and grabbed his arm and with both hands….did some sort of twist and pull. Whatever it was, it hurt as the kid screamed as he collapsed to the floor.

 

Carmelita stood above him as he clutched his arm and gasped. “Concede?” She asked sweetly. Shawn grinned.

 

“Fine!” he ground out. “I concede! Now help me.”

 

She sighed. “Oh, fine. Now hold still.” She knelt down and he couldn’t see what exactly she did, but Marten yelled again so he assumed everything was fine. She left him there and pulled off her mask and walked back to Shawn.

 

“Good job.” He congratulated raising a hand for a high-five which she took. “What did you do to him?”

 

“I just dislocated his arm,” she answered with a smile. “Not dangerous, but very painful.”

 

He grinned. “Nice. I’m sure he’ll remember that.”

 

“I’m pretty sure we all will,” Patricia commented walking up. “However…” she looked at Carmelita. “Sadly, as I’m sure you’re _well aware_ of, it’s technically against the rules to deliberately injure your opponent, so you’ll have to forgo you current position as the current champion.”

 

“Oh, no,” Carmelita sighed dramatically. “Well, I’ll try to work on that.”

 

Patricia eyed her. “Unofficially, though, good job. It’s much nicer than what I would have done to that moronic kid.”

 

“I’ll let you go next time,” Carmelita promised.

 

Patricia looked over at Marten stumbling to a chair. “Sadly, I think you’ve destroyed any chance at that happening. But thanks anyway.”

 

Carmelita inclined her head. “Anytime.”

 

Patricia walked away. “In all honesty, he wasn’t a bad fighter,” Carmelita admitted as she took a sip of water from a cup. “He must have had good teachers.”

 

Shawn shook his head. “How long did it take you to learn that? I could barely follow along.”

 

“Years.” She answered. “And I got beaten up quite a bit before I was any good.”

 

“Well it clearly paid off,” he commented. “Wish I could do that.”

 

“Hey, it’s not too late to learn the basics.” She reminded him.

 

“True,” he chuckled. “Well-“

 

 He was cut off as his wristband buzzed. He glanced down and shut it off. “Well, I guess I’m being deployed.” He started stepping back when she grabbed his arm.

 

“Be careful,” she told him softly. “I can’t always be there to save you when you do something stupid.”

 

He gave a grin. “Hey, my stupidity saved _your_ life so you shouldn’t be complaining. But don’t worry. I never want to see that infirmary room again.”

 

She let go. “Good luck.”

 

He gave a mock salute as he walked off. “Thanks.”

 

***

 

_The Citadel, Hanger Bay_

 

Shawn fiddled with the new shotgun. Or at least, he assumed it was. It was kind of hard to tell since it wasn’t exactly designed like one. It was about the same size and much lighter than his ballistic one, but it was honestly the end of the barrel that threw him off. Instead of the normal nozzle, there was a black semi-circle with three glowing red slits.

 

He wasn’t entirely convinced it filled the same role, but it was the weapon assigned to him so he’d taken it. The laser weapons were said to be _much_ better than the ballistics. Well, except against outsiders. If rumors were true, Shen and his team were trying to find a way to fix that issue.

 

He didn’t put much stock in it. Shen had a lot of projects to do and completely changing all their weapons to fight one enemy would likely not be among his priorities, not to mention costly. Perhaps if the outsiders couldn’t be killed, it would be different.

 

The door hissed opened and he walked into an empty hanger.

 

Well this was a first. He’d _never_ been the first one here.

 

Not quite sure what to do, he walked up to the skyranger and just stood there. He _really_ hoped that he hadn’t imagined the wristband vibrating and had gotten geared up for nothing. The hanger door hissed open and Mira and their pilot walked in. He let out a sigh of relief.

 

Mira nodded in acknowledgement as she walked up. “Specialist Cage. Good to see you well.”

 

“Thanks,” he answered. “I assume you’re Squad Overseer?”

 

She gave a brief nod. “Correct. The others will be coming shortly.”

 

“Soo…what’s the op?”

 

“Unknown.” She stated. “But I’ve been informed that it was requested by the Council itself.”

 

He whistled. “Wow. No pressure then.”

 

“I have none,” she replied, serious as ever. “This mission will not be treated any differently just because of the Council.”

 

He held up his hands. “Hey, you’re in charge not me, Mrs. Killjoy.”

 

She glared at him through her helmet. The fact that she had to look up at him didn’t take away any of the intensity. “Don’t call me that. Understood?”

 

Alright. Joke time over. He gave a violent nod. “Got it, Overseer.”

 

“Excellent.” She turned to the pilot. “Prepare to take off. We’ll load up as soon as the rest have arrived.”

 

The pilot nodded. Shawn couldn’t tell who it was since he had his aviation helm on. “Understood, Overseer. I’ll be ready when you are.” With that he walked off.

 

“Are you fully recovered?” Mira asked.

 

He frowned. “I was discharged, so yeah, I guess so.”

 

“Let me rephrase. Do _you_ think you’re fully recovered?”

 

“I feel fine,” he shrugged. “Though I won’t know for sure until some actual activity.”

 

“That’ll have to do. I’ll make adjustments accordingly.”

 

“I doubt the Commander would assign me if I couldn’t perform well.” Shawn pointed out.

 

“The Commander has been very busy and might not realize you were just released.” Mira responded. “With everything going on, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

 

Shawn wasn’t even offended, just curious. “And do _you_ have some special insight into the Commander than I don’t?”

 

“More than you.”

 

He crossed his arms. “That isn’t an answer.”

 

“I watch and observe,” she stated. “I have enough information to draw conclusions.”

 

“And in between you and Luke have your chats.” He finished, smiling inside his helmet.

 

“Occasionally,” she admitted. “Does that surprise you?”

 

“I just find it odd,” he continued. “For a woman who prides herself on remaining detached, you sure talk to him quite a bit.”

 

“Talking does not make him my friend, nor does it compromise my ability to lead.” Despite her words, her tone was more defensive than usual.

 

“Sure,” he said with a hint of patronization. “Whatever you say.”

 

She turned to him suddenly. “Be careful with Carmelita. She isn’t as stable as she appears.”

 

He blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“I know you two have spent a lot of time together recently. You need to have a serious talk if you want to proceed further.”

 

He suddenly wished he could be anywhere but here. “Umm…what exactly are you implying? And also, how do you even know and, uh, why do you even care?”

 

“Use your brain. You know exactly what I’m implying. As for how I know, I keep track of people.”

 

“You _do_ realize how creepy that sounds, right?”

 

“You learn more about people when they don’t know you’re listening. Aside from that, I care because I’ve been in a similar situation. I’d prefer she stay stable. Her forming a personal attachment now would be devastating if something were to happen to you.”

 

“Um, thanks. I think.”

 

He heard the hanger door hiss and had never been more relieved to see three soldiers walking in. He actually recognized them. Afif Lim, Kim Cortez and Roman Mendoza. They seemed oddly amused as they walked up.

 

“I assume the last man is behind you.” Mira stated as they walked up.

 

Roman chuckled. “Yeah, he is.” He turned to Shawn. “Hey, glad to see you up.”

 

“You too. Now what’s so funny?”

 

“Just wait.” Roman promised.

 

Shawn had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming.

 

Sure enough, the silent sniper walked into the room in all his modified glory.

 

Even Mira sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “What is this?”

 

On the sniper’s normally black and blank helmet, Shawn had decided to add some more…expression. It wasn’t much, just two yellow slits and a large smile underneath. Like if the colors were reversed on the old Wal-Mart logo. A smiley face.

 

It looked simultaneously ridiculous and terrifying. Well, Mira wasn’t going to get an answer as the sniper stormed over to them. Scratch that. Right to _him_.

 

He raised a hand in denial. “Uh…is there an-“

 

He never got to finish as the sniper grabbed the crevices of his chest armor and slammed him to the ground. Without ceremony, he stood back up and kept walking to the skyranger. Shawn groaned and got up at the amusement of the rest of the squad.

 

“Your handiwork, I assume?” Kim asked, the smile clear in his voice.

 

“In retrospect,” Shawn breathed. “It probably wasn’t a good idea.”

 

“Nah,” Roman objected. “That is the funniest thing I’ve seen in a while.”

 

“Well, thanks.”

 

“Enough chatter,” Mira interrupted them. “We have a mission to complete, this can be discussed later.”

 

“Yes, Overseer!” They affirmed as they followed her to the skyranger.

 

***

 

_Skyranger, En Route to France_

 

The good news? He wasn’t sitting by the sniper.

 

The bad? He was directly across from him. And the man had not stopped staring at him for the past fifteen minutes. He’d actually timed it. It had been somewhat distracting at first, but now he was considering checking his bed for a bomb or something once they got back. The smiley face he’d drawn on the helmet didn’t exactly make it better.

 

“Can you stop doing that?” he finally asked. “Seriously, it’s starting to get creepy.”

 

Unfortunately, he couldn’t expect much backup from this particular squad. They all found it extremely amusing for some reason. He supposed it was a good thing, he’d thought that it would be a funny joke and it seemed to be having it’s intended effect. He’d never considered the side effect would be considering what to do when a sniper with a smiley face threatened his life.

 

But the man shook his head and kept staring. Shawn crossed his arms. “C’mon, it’s a _sharpie_. You’re telling me you couldn’t get it off?”

 

The sniper tapped his wrist forcefully. Shawn winced. “Right. Time sensitive, got it. Ok, sorry. But how was I to know you’d be deployed?”

 

The sniper face palmed, or helmet palmed and then made several quick motions with his hands. “I didn’t get that,” Shawn frowned. “Could you do that again?”

 

He did. Ok, so he wasn’t imagining it. It _looked_ like some kind of sign language, but he didn’t know for sure. “Uh, guys?” he asked the squad, looking over. “Any of you understand sign language.”

 

All of them shook their heads, except Mira, who was pointedly ignoring this entire exchange. He sighed. “Great. The one time he says something and no one can translate it.”

 

  
_“As amusing as this entire exchange is, there are slightly more important matters.”_ The Commander’s voice informed them through their helmets. Each of them sat up straighter at that. Shawn cursed in his head. He’d forgotten that the Commander could listen whenever he wanted.

 

“Thank you, Commander,” Mira answered, sounding slightly relieved. “Standing by for orders.”

 

_“Excellent. This mission was directly requested by the Council. A convoy in France was attacked and they are presuming no survivors. You’re being dropped at the place they lost contact. Search the area for clues as to what happened.”_

 

“Should we expect alien activity?” Mira asked.

 

_“The Council believes they were behind this, so yes, I would. An attack like this would likely not involve many of their militant forces. I would expect thin men to be a significant presence.”_

 

“Understood, anything else?”

 

_“No. Your official objectives are as follows. Search the site and determine who attacked and why. If there are any aliens on site, eliminate them. If there are any survivors, bring them back to the Citadel for interrogation. Understood?”_

 

“Yes, Commander,” Mira acknowledged. “One more thing; what was the convoy carrying?”

 

_“The Speaker has informed me that the convoy was transporting avalanche missiles. Beyond that there was nothing of note?._

 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Cortez said. “Why attack a convoy just for inferior missiles?”

 

“Could the Speaker have been lying?” Roman asked.

 

There was silence for a few seconds. _“Possibly,”_ the Commander answered. _“However, whatever the convoy was carrying is long gone. If the Speaker has lied to me, I will deal with her. Focus on your objectives. The nature of the cargo being transported is not one of them.”_

 

“Understood, Commander.” Mira stated.

 

_“Good, I’ll be monitoring your status. Citadel Command, out.”_

 

“It appears that the Commander does not fully trust the Council.” Afif noted after a few minutes.

 

Shawn shrugged. “That isn’t exactly new. And it’s not that uncommon either. Lots of military types distrust each other. You never had that before?”

 

He shook his head. “There was no dissent in the Liberation Army.”

 

  
_Of course not_. Shawn snorted. _Because your army is under the command of the Chinese government._ But he knew better than to say anything like that. Build bridges, not burn them. “Lucky you, I suppose.”

 

“Hey, what’s out squad designation this time?” Kim asked.

 

  
_“Packer Team.”_ The Commander informed them.

 

“Thanks.” Kim said.

 

“He picks the oddest designations sometimes,” Roman muttered. “ _Packer_ team? What’s next? _Shipper_ team?”

 

“I’d prefer _Delivery_ team, myself.” Shawn commented.

 

“Seriously though,” Roman continued. “Does he pick out of a hat or something? I’m pretty sure he hasn’t used the same name twice.”

 

“He’s probably has a bet going to see how long it takes before someone figures it out.” Shawn chuckled.

 

_“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Thanks.”_

 

“My pleasure.” Shawn automatically replied when he realized the Commander had spoken. “Uh, or you could just end the mystery now?”

 

_“I don’t think so.”_

 

“Can’t say I didn’t try.”

 

All things considered, everyone was in pretty high spirits. With the exception of Mira and the sniper. Though Mira didn’t really count since she was _always_ like that. Hopefully that was a good sign of things to come.

 

_“This is Big Sky to Packer Team. The town we’re landing at has been severely devastated. You’ll be dropping onto a roof via ropes. ETA two minutes.”_

 

“Understood, Big Sky,” Mira replied. “We’ll be ready.”

 

She stood up. “Prepare to deploy.” She ordered them.

 

Shawn rose with the rest of them and unhooked the laser shotgun and checked the power levels. All at full power, excellent. He initialized his HUD and blinked twice to make sure his cover indicator was working.

 

The skyranger shuddered as it slowed down. “Lock down vocoders!” Mira ordered.

 

He did so. _“Prepare for deployment in ten seconds.”_ Big Sky warned as the skyranger slowed to a dead stop. The ramp hissed open and ropes deployed beside them.

 

“Deploy!” Mira ordered and leapt onto one of the ropes without securing as usual. Shawn and the rest of secured themselves and dropped down. The sniper followed Mira’s lead and just slid down.

 

His boots hit the concrete and he readied his weapon. Time to go hunting.

 

***

 

Big Sky hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that the site had been severely devastated. They were on top of a bombed out three-story office building and the surrounding area looked similar. Slabs of concrete dominated the streets and ground. Blown and burnt cars littered the area, some crashed into buildings, some into each other.

 

Many buildings would be more accurately called _shells_ and _skeletons_ rather than livable structures. The lack of any human life was the most unsettling to him. A scene like this normally was normally accompanied by screams and cries.

 

Not silence.

 

“Take position here,” Mira ordered the sniper. “Cover us as we move forward. Anything moves, shoot it.” The sniper nodded and dashed towards the edge of the roof and rested his sniper rifle on the small concrete wall.

 

“And there goes the Silence.” Shawn muttered as he ran away. Roman chuckled at that.

 

“Shut it, Shawn,” Mira ordered. “The rest of us are heading down. Follow me.”

 

They began descending the ruined building, luckily most of the stairway was intact. There were a few times they had to jump, but otherwise made it to the ground without incident.

 

“Where are the bodies?” Afif asked hesitantly.

 

“That is a good question.” Mira answered grimly.

 

They made their way through the bombed street. _Now_ he saw the bodies. They littered the street. The burned corpses filled the cars and he saw many dismembered bodies and limbs. He wished he hadn’t looked in the car with the bodies of a family. The rest of the squad was similarly disturbed.

 

They’d all seen dead bodies. It was part of being a soldier. But civilians were always considered off-limits in war. At least for any side with decency. He didn’t know if it was right that he felt worse for a dead civilian than a soldier, but he did.

 

Maybe because soldiers lived with the possibility of dead. They knew it might happen. They’d signed up for it.

 

Civilians didn’t. They never asked for this.

 

“Hey!” Shawn snapped out of his contemplation at Roman’s voice. “Check this out!”

 

They went over to where he was standing. At his feet was a body whose back was riddled with… _bullet holes?_

 

Mira kneeled down and rolled the man over. “French Army. He was one of the ones guarding the convoy.”

 

“And he was killed with conventional weaponry.” Shawn noted grimly.

 

“Search for more,” Mira ordered. “Commander, are you getting this?”

 

  
_“Yes. Carry on.”_ He might have been imagining it, but Shawn though the Commander’s voice was tighter than usual. Though that could simply be audio distortion.

 

He continued. There were a couple more bodies leaned against the wall, shot execution style. He went over to confirm and knelt down. Yep. French Army, one bullet to the head. He clenched his shotgun, almost wishing some aliens would attack. Not much made him legitimately angry, but seeing the corpses of his countrymen warranted that. This could have been him had he not been sent to XCOM.

 

“Two more over here,” he told Mira. “Headshot.”

 

“Got it,” she answered. “Keep-“ she was interrupted by the sound of a laser weapon discharging and a scream a second later.

 

“Contact!” Mira yelled. “Get to cover!”

 

Shawn ducked behind a blown out car and raised his weapon where the sniper had shot. The rest of the team had taken similar positions, Mira behind a column and Afif and Roman behind the remains of a truck. Kim kneeled behind a concrete slab. All had their weapons raised.

 

An unnatural shriek echoed throughout the area. It wasn’t a cry of pain. “It’s calling for help.” He warned.

 

“Switching to thermal.” Mira informed them. “Enter overwatch protocol. Fire at will.”

 

“Understood.” Shawn replied and the rest of the squad uttered similar acknowledgements.

 

Mira reached for her rocket launcher and took aim at the building. “Firing rocket.” She stated and fired. The entire wall blew out revealing a very surprised group of thin men, all in their oddly well-dressed attire. One opened it’s mouth, like it was trying to hiss before a beam melted it’s face off.

 

The squad opened fire. Between all the deadly lasers, the thin men were burned, dismembered and melted. The area they’d inhabited turned into a toxic zone from the poison their bodies spewed as they died. Shawn held off firing and he knew a shotgun would be useless this far away. Instead he dashed to a much closer position, though by the time he reached it, each thin man was dead.

 

  
_“Squad Overseer Vauner, this is Central Officer Bradford,”_ a new voice said. _“We’re picking up human life signs directly ahead.”_

 

“Understood, Central.” Mira responded and motioned them forward.

 

Ever vigilant, they made their way through, stepping over the corpses of fallen French soldiers. Shawn looked forward and spotted something. It looked like one of the corpses, except for one crucial difference.

 

His chest was rising and falling.

 

“Got one!” he yelled and motioned forward.

 

“Stay cautious,” Mira warned. “It could be a trap.”

 

“Me and Roman will remain here,” Afif told her. “We’ll cover you.”

 

She nodded and they advanced slowly. Both of them circled around the body, weapons pointed at it. Aside from the leg pinned under a concrete slab and the overall ripped and ruined clothing, the body didn’t look too bad.

 

The man could have been mistaken for a businessman had the suit he was wearing not been stripped away enough to reveal the Kevlar vest underneath. “He’s awake,” Mira stated. “No use faking it. We’ll bring you in regardless of your state of consciousness.”

 

The man groaned and open his eyes. He didn’t appear that old, his short dusty brown hair was well groomed, or had been at least. Everything about him indicated a man of a comfortable lifestyle. “Might as well just leave me here,” he muttered. “I’ve got nothing to say to you people.”

 

Shawn frowned. The man must have been deprived of… _something_ …that made you use your brain. He couldn’t have come up with a more suspicious statement if he’d tried. “I see,” Mira stated. “Well, we’re taking you in. We have some questions about what happened here.”

 

The man let out a laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. Stay with me and neither will you.”

 

“Get that off his leg.” Mira ordered. Shawn tried prying the concrete slab off him but simply couldn’t. The man screamed in pain as the concrete ground across his wounded leg, but not matter how he tried, he couldn’t get it off.

 

“I can’t do this,” Shawn told her. “It’s too entrenched and heavy.”

 

“Unfortunate,” she stated, not sounding phased.

 

“Heh,” the man let out a pained chuckled. “You’re not getting anything from me.”

 

“What do we do?” He asked Mira, shooting a concerned glance around. “We can’t wait around here forever. This isn’t the best place for an interrogation.”

 

“I agree,” she nodded. “But we need to know what happened.”

 

“This is only the beginning,” the man coughed out. “It’s only a matter of-“ he coughed violently several times. But the message was clear.

 

“We don’t have time for this,” Mira muttered, she pulled out her laser pistol. “Hold him down.”

 

“You’re going to torture him?” He demanded, but moved to comply. “I don’t think now-“

 

“I’m not going to torture him,” Mira interrupted as she lowered the pistol. “I’m cutting his leg off.” At that the man started squirming violently. Shawn held him down but shot a concerned glance a Mira. He found it questionable, but more for practical reasons.

 

“Won’t he die from blood loss?” He questioned.

 

“No.” She stated. “The laser will cauterize the wound. He’ll live.”

 

“What are you trying to prove?!” The man shouted as he thrashed.

 

Mira fired a sustained beam and slashed through the leg. The man screamed as the laser burned through his flesh, leaving a charred stump. Shawn pulled him away, trying not to pay attention to the severed limb.

 

“You’re nothing but a bunch of puppets,” he spat weakly. “Do you even know who you really serve?”

 

Shawn had no interest listening to this the whole way back. “I’ve had enough of your idiotic statements.” He snarled, and slammed a fist into his head, knocking him out. With that he slung the man over his shoulder and stood up.

 

“Good job.” Mira told him. “Big Sky, we need an evac now.”

 

_“Copy that, Overseer Vauner. I’ll be there in five.”_

 

“Move back by the office building.” Mira ordered. “Sniper, cover until we reach the LZ.”

 

They began rushing back as fast as possible. A shriek echoed, signaling more thin men. Shawn looked up and almost dropped the man. “On the roof!” he shouted. “Take cover!”

 

They slid down as the aliens started raining plasma fire down on them. Shawn set the man down and took aim. Instead of firing at the alien, he fired at the cover. The small wall protecting the alien crumbled, letting Roman fired a beam into the alien’s heart.

 

“Nice shooting!” Afif called. “A little help here?”

 

Shawn directed his fire towards the cover for the other aliens and repeated. A shot from the sniper destroyed one and Afif cleaned up the other.

 

“Clear for now!” Mira shouted. “Move!”

 

They kept going. A plasma bolt whizzed past Shawns head and slammed into a nearby car. “They’re behind me!” he shouted as he got into cover and the thin men started raining fire upon him.

 

“Sniper, take them out.” Mira hissed as she fired her rifle at the creatures. Three beams of light shot down upon them. Two were killed outright, one just dismembered the arm of the last one. The wounded alien shrieked and Mira lined up a shot and finished him off.

 

The skyranger roared overhead and set down in the destroyed street. “Everyone regroup.” Mira ordered as they approached the ramp. Shawn looked up to see the sniper dashing for the stairs as they began boarding. He threw the man into the skyranger and raised his weapon as another regrouping shriek sounded.

 

  
_“Overseer Vauner! Am I cleared for takeoff?”_ Big Sky demanded.

 

“Not yet!” Mira yelled as the first outlines of thin men appeared. They were sitting ducks here. Luckily the sniper reached the ground and sprinted in. Mira began to order a takeoff when he raised a fist and then his sniper rifle.

 

“There is no way you can-“ Shawn began when the sniper fired. But not at the group. Into one of the nearby cars that hadn’t been completely destroyed. It exploded, killing two of the thin men and wounding the third. The sniper lowered his rifle, nodded at Mira and went to take a seat.

 

Shawn and Mira exchanged a look. Neither quite sure what to say after that.

 

“Lift off now.” Mira ordered as she took a seat.

 

_“With pleasure, Overseer. Hope you found what you needed.”_

 

Mira looked down at the maimed man lying unconscious on the floor. “Yes,” said softly. “I think we did.”

 

Shawn hoped so as well. He was very interested to see what this man had to say.

 

And if he proved useless to the Commander, well…

 

Shawn would ensure he would pay, one way or another.

 

His countrymen deserved no less.

 

***

 

After-Action Report

 

Operation: Portent

 

_Personnel:_

 

Packer 1 ( _Squad Overseer)_ : Specialist Mira Vauner

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Kills:** 1

 

 

Packer 2 - Specialist Shawn Cage

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Kills:** 0

 

 

Packer 3 – Specialist Kim Cortez

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Kills:** 2

 

 

Packer 4 – Private Roman Mendoza

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Kills:** 1

 

 

Packer 5 – Private Afif Lim

 

            **Status:** Active

 

  
**Kills:** 1

 

 

Mission Director: The Commander

 

Pilot: Jason Olgard – Call sign: “Big Sky”

 

_Assets Recovered:_

 

Unidentified Human - Affiliation: Unknown


	19. "There Are No Lines."

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

The Commander gave a satisfied smile. "The timing could not be better."

Shen was more subdued, but appeared pleased nonetheless. "Yes, our team pulled through for us."

"I'll be sure to thank them personally," the Commander promised. "Four hours then?"

Shen nodded. "Yes. Vahlen can finally move her pet sectoid into containment."

The Commander arched his eyebrow. "Pet?"

Shen shook his head. "It might as well be, based on the amount of time she spends doing studies on the thing. I hope she's right and the sedatives haven't damaged it."

"Vahlen knows what she's doing," the Commander dismissed. "But I'm curious to see what she has planned for interrogating a live one."

"She's been working on a project to do just that," Shen told him. "She believes it will help overcome the language barrier."

"Really?" The Commander questioned. "How does it work?"

Shen sighed. "I honestly don't know. She says it will allow her to extract images and memories directly from the brain. In theory. She'd likely need more sectoids to perfect it."

"Well, if she needs more, I'll make sure to provide her with them," the Commander promised. "I assume there's a drawback?"

Shen winced. "She hasn't created a prototype that doesn't kill the subject."

"Unfortunate," the Commander shrugged. "But necessary in this case."

"We have finished work on the ARC thrower," Shen informed him, referring to the stun weapon they'd been developing for the past few weeks. "It'll make capturing aliens easier in the future."

The Commander nodded "Excellent. We'll hopefully have opportunities to capture some in the coming weeks."

"Hopefully." Shen repeated. "Once these instigators have been brought here, what do you intend to do?"

"Learn the truth." He stated grimly.

"You're going to question them?" Shen clarified.

He shook his head. "I'm going to interrogate them. Questions will come first, but if they refuse to cooperate, I will extract the information any way I can."

Shen crossed his arms. "You're willing to torture them?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course. Does that surprise you."

Shen frowned. "Torture is barbaric. There are better ways."

"And what would you suggest we do?" The Commander asked. "Talk to them nicely and offer them deals? Convince them how wrong they are? Is that your solution?"

"For starters," Shen agreed. "Even if it doesn't work, we are better than this. Torture only brings us down to the level of sadists and criminals."

"Strong words," the Commander stated. "And an interesting choice. _Better_. Tell me, Shen, are you willing to sacrifice thousands of people to ensure we remain _better_ than them?"

"Of course not!" Shen emphatically denied. "I don't want to see people die, but we don't need to reduce ourselves to make that happen."

The Commander pursed his lips. "There are going to be five people here soon. One of them likely has the key to solving this situation. I will not restrain myself for the sake of arbitrary morals. I will not sacrifice a country so my conscience rests easy. Neither of us may like it, but it is necessary to preserve humanity."

"And where does it stop?" Shen demanded. "At what point are lines drawn? At what point do we, do _you_ , go too far?"

"This is war, Shen." The Commander stated icily. "And contrary to what the majority believe, there are no lines. There are no restrictions. There are no 'good guys' or 'bad guys,' there are only allies and enemies. We fight a war for the survival of our species, Shen. Do not suggest I restrain myself for I will do whatever it takes to preserve humanity, no matter the cost."

Shen's face was a mask of disapproval. "And what if the cost is too high? Your contingency for Germany would destroy the country for years."

The Commander pursed his lips. "You exaggerate. But yes, some sacrifices have to be made. If we keep Germany from falling to the aliens, is that is worth a few thousand lives in comparison to the millions who would die otherwise?"

"Then for the sake of those people, I hope that one of your prisoners talks." Shen nearly spat as he turned away. "Good day, _Commander_. I'll be in Engineering, and would prefer for you to finish this business up before speaking to me again."

The Commander nodded. "Very well."

The door hissed shut as Shen walked out.

That had gone about as well as he'd expected. But now it was done and he didn't have to worry about Shen interfering further. He wouldn't have brought it up at all, had Shen not questioned him, but better they had this conversation now rather than when he was in the middle of an interrogation.

Even if Shen clearly didn't believe him, the Commander meant what he said. He wouldn't use pain unless he was certain it would work. Not everyone was susceptible to torture, and he saw no point utilizing it unless absolutely necessary. But the majority of people were weak-willed and… _vulnerable_ …to pain.

If intimidation, coercion and manipulation failed, it was good to have a backup plan.

* * *

_The Citadel, Detention Cells_

"We are filled to capacity," Zhang informed him. "It is lucky we didn't identify more instigators."

The Commander sniffed at that. "Please. I'm sure we could always find some more rooms. I don't anticipate they'll be spending much time in them anyway."

The cells containing the prisoners were fairly basic. A ten by ten foot area with a wooden table in the middle and two chairs. Aside from the small toilet, there was no other furniture. The walls were a dull steel and the lone light at the top of each cell roof fully illuminated the room. Each cell had a single door that only slid open upon palm identification. Beside the door was a one way mirror lending a glimpse into the room.

"Did any of them give your agents trouble?" He asked.

"Corinna and Lammert attempted to fight back," Zhang informed. "However, they were easily subdued."

"Tell your agents they did well." The Commander congratulated.

Zhang gave a curt nod. "I will. Should I begin interrogating them, or do you prefer to do that yourself?"

"I'll handle the interrogations," the Commander answered. "You need to have your agents prepare the Hades Contingency."

"Understood," Zhang answered. "How do you plan to interrogate them?"

"I expect Jochern will be the easiest," the Commander began, crossing his arms. "He's young, scared, over his head and he knows it. I doubt anticipating him giving me trouble. I'll try to work a deal with him."

Zhang nodded. "True. The kid is terrified right now. Though I'm not sure he'll be able to tell you much."

"Probably not," the Commander agreed. "But even a name will provide us with the means to start digging."

"Agreed. It may also be helpful in future interrogations."

The Commander nodded. "I'll move to Corinna next. I'm not sure entirely what to expect, but I believe she'll give me problems. She has nothing to lose and knows it, it will be difficult to persuade her. But she is a civilian and hasn't been trained in resisting torture."

"You think you can break her?" Zhang questioned. "Woman like her can prove resistant."

"There is a very small percentage of people willing to suffer for that they believe in," the Commander stated. "This was a woman that, for a large part of her life, lived a comfortable lifestyle. Even after losing her job, she had enough connections to get by. I don't believe she is part of that percentage."

"And what if she resists?"

"Then I'll move on to resistance erosion techniques. Sleep deprivation, temperature reduction, starvation. She will break. It will only be a matter of time." He held up a hand. "One more thing here. I'm taking Abby in with me."

Zhang's humphed, but didn't look overly surprised. "Why?"

"Two reasons. One, I don't want to accidently kill Corinna, and Abby will ensure that doesn't happen. But I'm more interested to see how Abby holds up. You have her placed on your list, correct?"

"You don't believe she should be on there." Zhang stated.

"I'm skeptical. I want to see how she reacts to an actual interrogation."

"Fair enough," Zhang nodded. "I'm sure it'll be an…enlightening experience."

The Commander shook his head, clearing it as his thoughts went forward. "Moving on. Lammert will also likely not negotiate, activists are exceptionally fanatical and so bound in their self-righteousness that it's almost impossible to convince them of anything that goes against their beliefs."

"So what's your plan? Torture him as well?"

"That was my initial plan, yes," he admitted with a frown. "But I'm not sure it will work. Besides, I have a more…effective…idea. Your report said you picked up a dog at his house?"

"Yes," Zhang confirmed. "Mossad agents are very good at spotting leverage."

"Well, I'll see how much he really cares about that animal."

"Good idea," Zhang nodded. "Though I'll be disappointed if an animal proves to be his breaking point."

The Commander shook his head. "People become very attached to pets. Besides, almost no one like to watch animals slowly dismembered."

"Fair point." Zhang acknowledged.

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "You never thought about doing that before?"

"No." Zhang stated. "The men I worked with never felt very…sentimental…about their animals. The closest that came to happening was when a colleague got a chihuahua. The damn thing ended up being the embodiment of the devil and he killed it after it chewed up some rather valuable contraband."

Interesting, though it had been only idle curiosity anyway. The Commander shrugged. "Anyway, the toughest one to break will no doubt be the operative we captured."

"Agreed," Zhang nodded. "I've not been able to find anything on his identity. He's in none of the major databases."

"Not really unexpected," the Commander admitted. "He'd be a terrible spy if he was. What do you make of him?"

Zhang frowned. "Very little. He carried no identifying items or clothing. His gear indicates a professional in some capacity, though who could be giving the orders is anyone's guess. I would guess his country of origin to be a developed country, possibly the United States, given his accent."

"Whatever the case, he'll give me trouble either way," the Commander stated. "Especially since he doesn't like me to begin with."

"His words were curious," Zhang mused. "If this was only the beginning, what comes next?"

"That's what I hope to find out. You happen to know any major organization who has issues with the UN?"

"North Korea, Israel, much of the Middle East…" Zhang listed off. "Those are the only major powers that come to mind. You have your own suspicions, I assume."

The Commander grimaced. "None that make sense."

"Then I hope you can extract what you need," Zhang told him. "If there's a new power threatening the UN, we need to know."

The Commander nodded. "Certainly. Fortunately, Wernher will be a much easier task."

"Your strategy."

"He has a family, correct?"

"He does. And I have people in position."

"Thinking ahead, I like it."

Zhang gave a humorless smile. "This isn't the first time I've done this."

"Do you think he'll respond more strongly to his children or wife?"

"Children," Zhang stated without hesitation. "Though I would personally use the wife first, if he somehow doesn't break if his child dies, he likely won't for his wife."

"And if the wife is taken out first, then that shows him we're serious," the Commander finished. "He'll know we'll follow through on our threats."

"You have a talent for this." Zhang noted.

"Not really," the Commander dismissed. "Anyone putting a decent amount of effort would come to the same conclusion. The only difference is that I will follow through."

Zhang nodded slowly. "It's rare to see."

"For good reason," the Commander stated grimly. "Normal people wouldn't even consider this, nor should they. That is why men like you and me exist and are so important. We do what is necessary."

Zhang snorted. "Perhaps you have, but my pursuits haven't always been quite as noble."

The Commander glanced at him. "Perhaps not. But you're with XCOM now. As far as I'm concerned, that's good enough for me."

Zhang didn't show any emotion, but gave a single nod. "Appreciated, Commander."

"I mean it." He turned toward the first cell and grabbed his case of equipment. "Time to get started.

***

_The Citadel, Detention Cell #1_

The Commander opened the door to find the kid pacing back and forth nervously. He started at the sound of the opening door. Jochern froze as the Commander stood there, appraising him. His blue eyes were filled with fear. Good. He'd hopefully not give him much trouble.

"Jochern Schwarz," he greeted with an inclination of his head. "I have some questions for you." He motioned at the table in the middle of the room. "Please, take a seat."

He did so hesitantly and the Commander set the case containing his equipment down and sat opposite him.

"Listen," Jochern began frantically. "I don't know what you think I know but I don't know anything. I swear it!"

A typical response from a terrified kid. He raised an eyebrow. "Then you have nothing to worry about then. Nevertheless, I would prefer to make certain of that myself."

Jochern wrung his hands together. "Yeah, sure, go ahead."

"Excellent," the Commander folded his hands together and placed them on the table. "You are familiar with Adam Halle, correct?"

He nodded. "Yeah, we're friends."

"You coordinated with him on many of his protests?"

"He asked me to. I know a few people."

"Now that we've established that…" the Commander reached into his case and pulled out the photograph of Jochern meeting the man. "Would you like to explain this? Who are you working for?"

His eyes widened and he jerked back, stood up, and began pacing back and forth with his hands on the back of his head. "God, what have I gotten into," he muttered. He stopped pacing and glared at the Commander. "Who are you? German government? Police?"

"A party concerned for the future of Germany. Please sit down."

He did. "Alright, look. If this guy was doing anything illegal I had no part in it."

"That remains to be seen," the Commander answered skeptically. "Tell me what you did for him."

Jochern let out a long breath. "It was nothing illegal, ok? This guy approached me a few months ago with an offer. He began a big story about some government cover up and conspiracy. Personally, I didn't care, but he offered me quite a bit of money to get close to someone speaking out against the government."

"Adam Halle."

"Yeah, him. Look, all he wanted was to know what he was planning. That's it."

"There must have been more than that." The Commander stated skeptically.

He shrugged. "I don't know what his interest was, but…well, he wanted me to help them. Like legitimately help them. The guy gave me a list of people who sympathized with Adam and I just hooked him up with them. Thanks to that, I became a pretty trusted friend."

"Who manipulated him." The Commander pointed out.

Jochern snorted. "Look, this was literally a deal with no downsides. I got money, Adam got his revolution and this guy got information. No one got hurt."

The Commander sighed. "You do realize that these constant rallies and protests have destabilized Germany? Now it's a target for anyone that wants to take it. Namely the aliens."

He scrunched his face. "Don't try and fool me. That stuff is all fake. People are only latching onto it because it's another thing to blame the government for."

"The alien threat is very real, Mr. Schwarz," the Commander stated grimly, pulling out several more pictures. "It's being suppressed, but I believe they're going to make a move. Thanks to your actions and those of the other protestors, Germany will likely be that move."

The kid's face drained of blood as he looked at the pictures of the sectoid, thin men and outsider. "Damn." He whispered. "I had no idea." He looked up suspiciously. "Hold on. What if this is some elaborate pranks? How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"Would you like me to bring up one of the corpses?" the Commander questioned. "Perhaps watch some of the footage of encounters? Visit the graves of those already dead? If you want proof, you'll have to be more specific."

Jochern blinked. "Ok, look. I seriously had no idea any of this was happening. I thought I was just exercising democracy and making some money doing it, ok? I didn't want people to get hurt."

The Commander leaned forward. "Then help me. Tell me about the man."

The kid took a deep breath and nodded. "Ok, right. He was tall, always well dressed, had blonde hair and a pretty stern face, like yours, really. Uh, let's see…." He paused for a moment. "Blue eyes, yeah, that's right. Couldn't tell you where he was from, I want to say he was German, but don't know for sure. Hmm…"

"Did he have a name?" the Commander questioned.

"Yeah," Jochern shrugged. "Fester Adler, but I don't think that was his real name."

Likely. No spy would use his real name. "Did he have any markings? Anything about who he worked for?"

Jochern hesitated. "Maybe…? I saw something I wasn't supposed to once. That time he must have come from somewhere else because he had something strapped to his belt. Looked like a radio of some kind, but there was some kind of symbol etched on it." He tapped the table. "You have paper?"

The Commander reached down and pulled some sheets out. "Recreate it as best you can."

"Will do." Jochern began sketching furiously, his hand shaking. Cursing, he hastily corrected his slips and hurriedly drew out a crude recreation. He set the pencil down and turned the paper around for the Commander to see.

The symbol was a hexagon. Most of the lower half was filled in, minus a four-pointed star at the bottom point. The top half was more interesting. There were two ways he could see of looking at it. One, it was a circle with an arch directly over it. Or, two, it was supposed to mimic an eye.

Either way, he'd never seen it before.

He put the paper away. Zhang would have to look at it later. "Thank you," he told Jochern sincerely. "This may help."

"I mean it. I told you, I never wanted anyone to get hurt."

"Did Fester ever answer to anyone? Who did he report to?"

"I don't know if he was _answering_ to someone," Jochern began hesitantly. "But I heard him talking to someone once. Ali Ennor. No clue who he is."

This kid was actually an unexpected font of information. "You have an excellent memory." He commented.

Jochern shrugged. "Well, maybe I knew that something was off and my brain filed it away in case I needed it someday. Like now, I guess."

The Commander nodded. "You've been very helpful. Tell me, when are you meeting Fester next?"

He shook his head. "I'm not. Ever. We had a system set up, I send an all clear at least once ever twenty-four hours or our deal is off. It was just pushing a button. Something I clearly couldn't do in here, not that I would have done it anyway."

A shame. But nothing he could do. "Unfortunate, but you've provided enough to begin digging."

Jochern held up a hand. "Uh, so what are your planning to do? To Adam and his rallies I mean?"

"Best case scenario, they disband and end their so-called revolution," the Commander answered. "Worst case, they get arrested with every single troublemaker in Germany until the situation calms down."

Jochern wrung his hand. "Look, Adam's not a bad person. He really thinks that he's doing the right thing by standing up to the government. And honestly, I don't think he's wrong about some things. But he doesn't run things like the other protestors. Peaceful only, no violence. He only wants answers."

"And under different circumstances, I might agree," the Commander answered. "But we cannot afford dissention now. I'll be honest with you, the German government has handled this whole situation very poorly. But the damage is done and order must be restored."

Jochern sighed. "I don't suppose I can talk to him? Tell him that he's being used?"

"Would he believe you?"

The kid lowered his head. "Probably not."

"He exercised his right," the Commander reminded him. "He technically did nothing wrong and I'm sure the courts will take that into consideration."

"I'm sure that'll be a comfort," Jochern muttered. "Well, yeah. So what happens to me?"

The Commander pondered that. His original plan going in was to send him to the German military for trial and imprisonment. But the kid honestly didn't deserve it. He'd taken an opportunity that wasn't illegal and seemed to legitimately not know he was being played. Throwing him in prison would frankly be an insult, especially since he'd fully cooperated.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Where would you go if released?"

Jochern blinked. "Uh, as far away from Germany as possible. Maybe convince some friends to get out while they still can."

"And what would you do afterwards?"

He pondered that. "Probably lie low for a bit, try to get a job. My college career's blown now, so I kiss that goodbye. Maybe…I don't know? Enlist perhaps? If aliens are coming, I want to do _something_ to stop them."

Exactly the answer he wanted. He gave him a smile. "Noble."

Jochern held up his hands. "I'm being serious here. No more accepting deals from shady people."

"Relax, I believe you," the Commander reassured him. "But if you're actually interested in fighting aliens, I have a possible proposition for you."

Jochern eyed him. "Go on…"

"You managed to gain the trust of someone in a very short time span," the Commander continued. "Even if you had information, it requires some skill to effectively use it. You appear to have an excellent memory and store useful details."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you may be a good fit for our intelligence branch."

Jochern cocked his head. "You're offering me a _job_?"

"I'm _proposing_ a job," the Commander corrected. "My intelligence director would have to approve you himself. But accept this, and I think you'll have a good shot."

Jochern whistled. "Wow. I honestly didn't expect this. So…are you some sort of alien fighting force?"

The corners of his lips turned up. "Something like that. Officially called the Extraterrestrial Combat Unit. Or XCOM."

"XCOM," Jochern repeated. "Huh. Ok, I accept."

The Commander extended his hand which Jochern shook. "Excellent. I'll speak with Zhang right away."

"So, I just wait here?" Jochern asked.

"For now, but not for much longer," the Commander promised, standing up and grabbing his case. "If Zhang rejects you, you'll be taken to wherever you choose. You earned your release."

"Thanks, uh," he paused. "I don't think I got your name."

"I prefer using my title. I'm the Commander of the XCOM Project."

Some of the color that had returned to Jochern's face drained when he realized who he was talking to. "Oh. Wow. Apologies, uh, Commander."

He smiled. "No need. I hope to speak to you again."

With that, he walked out.

That had been one of most successfully executed interrogations he'd ever done. Literally everything had gone right. Well, he might as well enjoy his moment of victory, because it was only going to get much harder from here.

***

_The Citadel, Detention Cells_

Abby had finally found the one part of the Citadel she didn't like. Until today, she hadn't even known there ever _were_ detention cells, much less that they were housing actual _people_. She couldn't quite point to what made her uncomfortable about the place, it wasn't any less lit or foreboding than any other area.

Perhaps it was just a natural reaction. She'd never been inside a jail cell before, so this could just be a normal first reaction. But as she looked inside the cells, at the people locked up, the feeling didn't dissipate.

Why was she even here? Was she supposed to examine them, find out if they were healthy? She had no clue why the Commander wanted her here. He'd just ask that she gear up and come down. He was standing by one of the cell doors at the far end, holding a case of some kind.

She walked up and saluted. "Commander, you requested me?"

He turned to her and nodded. "Yes. I did."

"What are your orders?"

He turned back to the cell and Abby got a look at the woman inside. She looked about mid-thirties, with long black hair. She looked more irritated than anything as she leaned back in one of the steel chairs in the room.

"Three of the people you see in these cells are involved in escalating the situation in Germany," the Commander explained. "This is Corinna Rademaker, former businesswoman, now professional instigator. She runs her rallies and protests with surgical precision and possesses a surprisingly tactical mind. She's receiving funding and resources from someone. I'm going to find out who."

Abby suddenly had a sickening suspicion why she was down here. "What are you going to do?"

"Interrogate her," he answered flatly. "If she cooperates, excellent. If she doesn't then I'll have to break her."

"When you-"

"You're not an idiot, Abby. If she doesn't cooperate, I will hurt her. Badly."

She swallowed, hoping her apprehension didn't show on her face. "And I'm supposed to…"

"Watch her," he ordered. "Make sure she doesn't die. I hope it doesn't come to that, but with what I know about her, it's very likely."

She gave a firm not. "Got it?"

He looked at her, as serious as he'd ever been. "Can you handle it?"

She didn't want to. She honestly just wanted to turn around and leave. She wasn't even sure he'd even stop her. But she got the feeling this was a test of some kind. And even if it made her sick, she never quit on tests. Not to mention he was the Commander of XCOM. Refusing would be a very bad idea.

She jerked her head in a nod. "Yes, Commander, I can."

He cocked his head. He clearly didn't seem sure if he believed her or not. "Good," he finally said. "Put on your helmet."

Thank God. At least she wouldn't have to try and hide her expression. With a hiss, her helmet clicked on and the Commander opened the door, then they both entered the room. The woman glared at them.

"Stand in the middle," the Commander muttered to her. "Under no circumstances are you to interfere unless you believe she will die."

She nodded and walked over to the middle wall, directly to the side of the table as the Commander took a seat across from Corinna. He set down a case he was carrying and rested his hands on the wooden table. "Corinna Rademaker, I-"

"I want my lawyer," she interrupted. "Now."

The Commander's only visible response was a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry? What makes you think you're _getting_ one?"

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Oh, I don't know, aside from the fact that it's the _law_. And boy are you going to be in trouble once I get out of here. Arresting without cause or a warrant? Kiss your career goodbye. Now listen _real_ good. Get. Me. My. Lawyer."

The Commander smiled at the end of her outburst. "I'm afraid you don't understand the gravity of the situation, Mrs. Rademaker. We have the authority to hold you until our questions are answered. You can refuse to answer those questions, but I assure you that it wouldn't be in your best interests."

She snorted. "All right, I'll bite. What authority could you _possibly_ have?"

"I am the Commander of the XCOM project. Have you heard of it?" Abby saw something flash across her face, though it was gone an instant later so she might have imagined it.

The Commander held up a hand. "I see. Interesting. Then I assume you know what I'm going to ask you."

"I've done nothing illegal," she stated. "Is this about my protesting? I'm completely within my rights to do so."

"I've had people watching you for weeks," the Commander continued, his tone growing colder despite the smile on his face. "I must say, I'm rather impressed. You are decisive and tactical for a simple businesswoman. Using choke points, delaying tactics, limited resources, it's far more organized than a simple protest. I'm curious as to why you're doing this and I don't think it's for the ideals of anti-censorship or answers."

"You're damn right it isn't," she hissed. "You don't know anything about me."

Abby felt like she was missing some very important information, but held her tongue as the Commander continued. "I know enough," he said. "You were a fairly successful woman. Everything was going well for you until you were accused of embezzlement. Several trials and a few hundred thousand dollars later and you were cleared.

But your reputation had been damaged and you were deeply in debt. You eventually found someplace that would take you, but it was nothing compared to what you'd been before. And now I assume you've left that to pursue your own interests. Revenge, likely."

She had a look of disgust on her face. "You don't know what I went through. Don't you dare judge me."

"When did I say anything about that?" The Commander asked. "You simply said I didn't know anything about you. I only corrected your mistake."

"Yeah," she bit out. "From information your spies gave you."

The Commander shrugged. "Yes. For the record, I agree that what happened to you was terrible. However, destabilizing Germany isn't the answer. Especially with the alien threat."

She smirked. "Sure you do. And I personally don't care about Germany. Let it burn down and I'll gladly cheer when it happens. They took everything from me. Maybe those high-and mighty justices will have a taste of that for a change."

Abby didn't exactly agree with her reasons. But she did understand them. Who could say she wouldn't act the same if something like that happened to her?

"And what about the aliens?" The Commander pressed. "I know they're planning something and people like you are making it easier for them."

"Good," she spit. "Human, alien, I really don't care. Hell, the aliens might run the country better than the idiots running it now."

Abby winced. That was a _very_ bad move. She still felt some sympathy for the woman, but she was pretty sure any of that had evaporated within the Commander. His face hardened and the smile slowly receded.

"Is that right?" he asked softly. "I'll tell you something, Mrs. Rademaker. The aliens aren't coming in peace. They're abducting people for who knows what, and they plan on _eradicating_ humanity, not _ruling_ it. Do you think they'll stop at Germany? Do you really think that they'll _actually_ care about your situation?

She leaned forward. "You know what?" She hissed. "I think you're just trying to scare me. The aliens have been observing us for a while now, if they were going to attack, don't you think they'd have done it _right_ _away_? You're just scared that your power is threatened."

The Commander pursed his lips. "You're wrong. But the aliens aren't what I wanted to ask you about. Who was funding you?"

She leaned back, with a satisfied smile on her face. "You really think I'm going to answer that?"

"For your sake, I hope you do." The Commander warned.

"Well, I'll just tell you that they know a whole lot more about justice than you."

The Commander pulled out a couple of sheets. "Do you recognize this?"

Abby cocked her head and saw some sort of emblem or symbol. She'd never seen it before. The woman hadn't either. "No clue. And I don't know who that guy is either."

The Commander apparently believed her. "Worth a shot. But I'm not asking much. I just want a name. Either of your contact or who was funding you."

She tapped her head. "Get it through your thick skull. I'm. Not. Telling."

The Commander leaned back. "This is your last chance," he warned. "Tell me before I start cutting off body parts."

She sniffed. "Torture? Do you think that'll scare me? If you must bluff, at least use a convincing lie."

 _Now_ an unsettling smile settled across the Commander's face. "And just why do you think I'm lying?" He asked softly.

 _Shut up_ , Abby begged her in her mind. _Just tell him._

She smiled in return. "We're in the United States, right?"

"We are."

"Well, I've got some bad news for you. You know of the United Nations Convention against Torture? The United States is part of it. Simply put for an imbecile like you, that means torture is illegal."

"Look at me," the Commander ordered her in his unsettlingly calm voice. "Do you really think _I_ care about a _United_ _Nations_ Convention?"

"Don't know," she shrugged confidently. "But if you value your job, you do."

He leaned forward and Abby had to strain to hear him. "I'm currently waging a war against a threat that wants to wipe us out. You hold something that might help me prevent a catastrophe. I don't care if I have to break every law known to man, I will do _whatever_ it takes to protect this world. Do you understand?"

She looked uneasy for a second, but her confident demeanor returned a few seconds later. "You _almost_ convinced me. Almost."

The Commander stood up and went over and grabbed the trash can at the opposite corner. He set it at the end of the table and sat back down. Corinna frowned. "What was that about?"

"I prefer my workspace clear," he answer, standing up. "This is your last chance. Tell me who was funding you."

She glared defiantly at him. "No."

"Very well." He suddenly grabbed her hand and forced it palm down, drew a serrated knife from his vest and stabbed down. Corinna shrieked as it pinned her hand to the table and screamed as the Commander took out a hammer from his case and tapped on the hilt until it reached her skin, each tap eliciting a yell of pain.

Abby flinched as he did it. Her screams sent shivers down her spine. The Commander grabbed her other hand. "Stop!" Corinna screamed. "Please stop!" The Commander ignored her pleas and repeated the technique until her other hand was firmly pinned. The Commander's face betrayed no emotion as he sat back down.

"Who was funding you?" He repeated calmly.

"Go to Hell!" She screamed.

The Commander drew another knife from his case and placed it over her left little finger. Corinna's watery eyes grew wide at that. "No, please!" she pleaded as the Commander cut it off.

Abby gritted her teeth and looked away as she heard the crunch and ripping of the skin and bone, as well as Corinna's shriek of anguish. When she looked again, a glistening stump was where the finger had been. Blood was coming out, but not at a dangerous rate. With the bloodstained blade, the Commander pushed the dismembered finger into the trash can.

"Who was funding you?" He asked.

She screamed and hurled curses, insults and profanities at him. None of which perturbed him in the least. He simply repeated the procedure, this time on the little finger of her right hand.

He repeated the question. She kept refusing.

He cut off the ring finger from her left hand.

"Who was funding you?"

"Fuck you!"

He cut off the ring finger from her right hand.

Abby's fists clenched as the constant wails of anguish didn't cease. She felt sick. She wanted to leave, but couldn't. She just stood there, tense and flinching at every sound of flesh being rent and bone cut. She'd seen worse injuries, but this was different. This was wrong.

The Commander's blades and hands were bloody now, but he reached into his case and pulled out a new tool. A small hook, he, stood and circled around until he was by her face and hooked it in the skin below her eye.

"Who is funding you?"

She was silent, except for a low gasping, for a few seconds and he began the process of taking her eye when she broke. "All right!" she screamed. "All right! I'll tell you! Just make it stop hurting! Please!"

The Commander relented and sat back opposite her. "Excellent. Answer my question."

She took a few shuddering breaths. "Ali Ennor," she gasped. "That's his name. Ali Ennor."

The name meant nothing to her, but the Commander's eyes widened at that. "Thank you. What is the name of the organization that supported you?"

"I don't know," she whispered in fear. "Please, I'm telling the truth. I never asked, I made requests and they send me what I needed. But I do know who they funneled the money through."

"Tell me."

"This is gonna sound crazy but I promise it's the truth," she told him frantically. "There were four companies, shell ones I'm sure. But they were stationed in the United States, North Korea, Australia and Israel."

"That's not surprising," the Commander frowned. "Many organizations do this."

"No," she explained frantically. "The money was funneled _through_ the companies to me. It originally came from their _governments_."

Abby froze at that. If she was telling the truth, and she didn't have any reasons to lie now, it meant there was an organization at the highest levels of government that had somehow managed to infiltrate major countries. The ramifications were….she didn't even want to think about that. Not yet.

"And just why should I believe this?" The Commander demanded.

"I was an accountant," she pleaded. "I wanted to find out where the money was coming from. Your people sized the files on my computer right? Check them, they're there, I promise!"

The Commander nodded. "Thank you. I think I've learned everything I wanted to." He took a cloth and set it on the table and cleaned his blade with it. He laid one hand on Corinna's mutilated hand and pulled out the knife pinning it down with a sickening tearing sound. She whimpered, too exhausted to muster a scream. He did the same with her other hand.

After cleaning the blades, he grabbed his case and stood up. "Patch her up." He ordered Abby as he exited the room.

***

Armed with her med-kit, fixing her didn't take long. The woman put up no resistance and she cleaned the wounds and cuts. She was fortunate she'd keep the use of her hands, minus the amputated fingers. The Commander had fortunately, or likely deliberately, not broken any bones in the hand or damaged it beyond repair.

She wanted to say something comforting to the woman, but she didn't know what she could say after that, or even if she'd be lucid enough to hear. When she left, the woman was slumped over the bloodstained table, unconscious.

The Commander was waiting outside. He nodded grimly at her. "Thank you."

"Yeah," she muttered, not quite able to keep the anger and disgust out of her voice. "Sure, Commander."

He picked it up quickly. "You disapprove?"

"Yes, I do." She stated. "After seeing that, I don't know how you can justify it."

He appraised her. "It worked."

"But it was wrong."

"Was it?" he asked sincerely. "You saw everything, correct. I gave her multiple opportunities to tell me. She refused. I may not like employing torture but after exhausting all the options I _will_ employ it. Tell me, what should I have done?"

Trying to debate this with him would not be worth it. Simply put, she was outmatched here and couldn't formulate a coherent and rational platform against him. Especially since she'd just witnessed evidence of it working, even if she hated to admit that. He'd likely heard this same debate his entire life and had explanations ready for every possibility.

Or maybe she was wrong and he was right. She didn't know right now.

She needed to think.

"Hey." She looked up to see him a little closer.

"Get some rest," he told her. "You've done enough today. Go and think, it isn't easy to come to terms with some of this."

She sighed. "Thanks." And without bothering to salute, walked off. Her thoughts a confusing and contradictory swirl.

***

_The Citadel, Detention Cell #3_

While interesting, the information Corinna had provided was very troubling. She hadn't lied to him, he was very good at determining that, but he wasn't convinced she was correct. But if she _was_ right…it indicated that the governments of many countries were compromised. And following that logic, it would follow that they'd be placed in far more positions than just the four countries she mentioned.

So he had a potential conspiracy to deal with in _addition_ to the aliens and United Nations. Well, even if she was wrong, the name she'd provided was worth the trouble. It couldn't be a coincidence that Jochern and Corinna had the same contact, or at least knew the name.

Well, hopefully this next one would be much more straightforward. Lemmert Holst appeared to be involved with the aliens, a much more straightforward enemy. Hopefully he'd just spill what he knew because he really didn't want to go through another torture session. It was draining and knowing he had two more to go after this didn't exactly help.

Lemmert's dog was chained up outside the cell. A golden retriever. He looked really happy to finally be getting some attention, nuzzling and licking him. He knelt down and rubbed the retriever on the head. "Hope your owner talks, boy," he told the dog. "I'd hate to hurt you."

He stood up and entered the cell. Lammert was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. The Commander took a seat. "Lammert Holst, I have some questions for you." He motioned at the chair. "Please, sit."

"I'll stand, thanks." He responded.

"Very well." The Commander reached into his case and pulled out some pictures. "You've been involved in the protests recently, correct."

"Yeah, showing people they can stand up to the corrupt politicians."

"All politicians are corrupt," the Commander corrected. "Some more than others. Still your…brand…of protest is, quite frankly, problematic. You've actively encouraged violence against the police and state. Pushing your rights, I'd say."

"Yeah, and what are they gonna do about it?" Lemmert challenged. "Shoot us? Imprison us? The police don't have the spine to put us down and with every arrest we only become stronger!"

The Commander hadn't heard such idiotic rhetoric in a while. It was hard to believe people like this actually believed they were right. "You _are_ aware that the majority of people hurt were caused by _your_ own, ah, _supporters_."

"You can't have a revolution without people getting hurt," Lemmert continued. "Sure, some weren't really involved, but we showed that the police can be beaten!"

The Commander let out a long sigh. "The only reason you, ah 'won,' was because the police had orders to hold back. Ironic that the government you hate so much is the reason that you're not in jail now."

The Commander shook his head. "Now, personally, the police should have shot one of your protestors to end this little revolution. But I'm not in charge so I'll get right to the point." He took out the photograph of Lemmert at the rally with a thin man and walked over to show him the picture.

"Do you recognize the man behind you?"

Lemmert's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, he's a friend."

"What's his name?"

"Nope. I know how you spooks work. He'll carry on my work without me."

Well time to find out how involved he really was. "You do know he's an alien, right?"

Lemmert shrugged and glared at him. "Of course, he came to me after _you_ massacred one of their diplomatic ships."

The Commander blinked in disbelief. "I'm sorry?" He asked. " _What?"_

Lemmert crossed his arms. "I know who you are, Commander of XCOM. They warned me you might find me. I won't be convinced of your lies now that I know the truth."

"Do you even-" The Commander cut himself off. "Actually, please enlighten me on my, ah, _lies_."

"Gladly," he spat. "The aliens attempted to make peaceful contact down in Florida and were massacured. He showed me the photos of all the slain crew. Since then you've hunted them to near extinction, they're growing desperate and I'm helping save their species!"

Now, normally he'd dismiss this guy as insane. However, the aliens _had_ psionic abilities. It was possible this was result of one of the sectoids tampering with his mind. Or another alien with psionic powers. This guy couldn't _honestly_ believe that ridiculous story. Right?

"You're trying to save their species," he repeated. "And doing that requires the destabilization of Germany?"

Lemmert nodded emphatically. "Correct! Humanity needs a fresh start and our governments are corrupt! Surely you can see that? We are led blindly by corrupt leaders only concerned about their power!"

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "And you think…what? The aliens are different?"

"Yes," Lemmert agreed. "They don't care about money or power. Only about what's best for the common person!"

The Commander fought the urge to facepalm. What a moron. But a moron with potentially useful information. Though he was beginning to question taking what this guy was saying as fact. "Very interesting. Truly. But I need to know what they're planning."

"I am the ambassador between our races!" Lemmert declared haughtily. "I will not bow to your corrupt organization who only wishes death!"

Was he always this grandiose? He was tempted to watch some of this guy's speeches. It was incredibly stupid, but it was honestly pretty entertaining. "I'm sure," he placated. "However, if you don't tell me what I want to know, I'll have to hurt you."

"Do your worst!" Lemmert shot at him. "The aliens knew my capture might happen one day and prepared me for it. Pain means nothing to me!"

Hmm…it was possible. He didn't know the extent of the alien's powers and it was certainly plausible that they might be able to block out pain. He unsheathed his blade and handed it to Lemmert. "Prove it." He stated.

Lemmert flashed a wide smile. "Behold the gifts of the aliens!" he declared, then taking a reverse grip, dug the knife a half inch into his upper right chest, then cut diagonally down until he reached the lower stomach area. All without breaking eye contact or his smile wavering.

As the blood spread across his shirt, his claim appeared to be true. Somehow, the aliens had blocked his ability to feel pain. Interesting. In the unlikely event that he didn't gain anything useful from him, Vahlen would discover how the aliens had done this.

A smile slowly spread across the Commander's face, not the reaction Lemmert expected judging from his dimming smile and surprise in his eyes. "Is that all?" he asked as he took the knife back.

"You cannot hurt me," Lemmert stated. "You've lost."

"Incorrect," the Commander stated. "I cannot _physically_ hurt you. Fortunately, I have other ways of convincing you. Wait here." He left the confused man and went outside the cell and unhooked the dog.

"Come on," he chided the animal. "Let's see if the aliens stripped him of emotion as well."

The dog immediately perked up at the sight of it's owner. It's tail wagged and it barked happily. Lemmert responded the same. "Alan! You're…here…." He trailed off as what was happening dawned on him. The blood drained from his face, his dark skin growing slightly lighter. "No…you wouldn't…"

The Commander gave a humorless smile and opened his case and pulled out a small blowtorch. "The alien's may have made you immune to pain," he said while turning the torch on and off a few times as he eyed the dog. "But I suspect that they didn't do the same to Alan here."

"You won't do it," he stuttered as the Commander approached the dog, which now realized the danger it was in. It didn't even try to fight, just backed up while whimpering. "You're bluffing."

"I just sliced four fingers off a woman who was as defiant as you," he stated coldly. "Perhaps you can ask her."

The dog was backed into a corner and the Commander looked over at a fearful Lemmert. "Now tell me," he asked quietly. "What are the aliens planning?"

"No..I won't…" he answered weakly.

The Commander fired up the blowtorch and lowered it to the dog, who whimpered as the hair closest to the blue flame immediately disintegrated.

"Wait! Stop!"

The Commander ceased the flame and looked up at a shuddering Lemmert. "I'll talk," he promised. "I'll talk. Just don't hurt him."

The Commander nodded. "That's all I ask. Sit down." He took a seat and motioned for Lemmert to do the same. The shaking man wrung his hands together once he sat down. Amazing how much people became attached to their pets.

"Now, what are the aliens planning?"

"To take it over," Lemmert told him. "Once tensions escalate to the highest possible point, one of the police officers will fire into the crowd. The resulting chaos will destroy the country, leading for a new party to restore order."

"So the aliens have infiltrated the police," the Commander mused. "Who else?"

"Paper," Lemmert asked and the Commander quickly gave him some. Lemmert scribbled down names. "I don't know the names, but these are the positions they hold. There aren't many, but enough for our purposes."

"So who will head this new order," the Commander asked. "The aliens? You?"

"The plan was for me," Lemmert admitted. "Once I've restored order, my country will be the first to welcome the aliens, not try to kill them."

"I'm curious," the Commander asked. "Why Germany? Why not a more influential country?"

Lemmert looked surprised. "We didn't start the chaos in Germany. But we did take advantage of it."

Now _that_ was interesting. The Commander laced his fingers together. "If the aliens didn't start it, who did?"

Lemmert shook his head. "I don't know. And the aliens didn't think it important to investigate. Or if they did, didn't think it worth mentioning to me."

Assuming he was telling the truth, it meant that this mess was engineering by an organization with enough influence and power to destroy a nation. How many could do that? The Council? This new possible organization behind Jochern and Corinna? A country acting on it's own?

"Your contact," the Commander continued. "What will he do now that you're captured?"

Lemmert shrugged. "Find someone else and finish what I started."

That would take time. Time enough for Zhang to dismantle that cell and hopefully execute the infiltrators.

"Thank you," he nodded. "You've actually helped."

"What happens now?" Lemmert asked.

The Commander hesitated. He personally wanted to execute the traitor right here and now. A man like him didn't deserve to live. Had he not had an immunity to pain, he would have done so. But since he _did_ , well, that complicated things. He sighed. This was a time to put aside his personal wishes for progress. Examining Lammert might reveal something about the aliens. He wasn't sure if this particular enhancement was genetically engineered or psionic. That was for Vahlen to determine.

"You'll stay here for now," he told him. "And keep your pet. My science team will be very interested to know how you were modified. Cooperate fully and you may be sent to prison for the rest of your life. Don't and you'll be executed after they finish. Understand?"

"Yeah," the defeated man muttered. "I do."

"Good," the Commander stated, picking up his case. "Then stay put. I also hope you didn't cut yourself too deep. Someone isn't coming for a while. It'd be a shame for you to die now."

Lemmert looked down, as he apparently had forgotten his cut and the Commander walked out of the room, leaving the man and dog alone.

***

_The Citadel, Detention Cells_

Shawn stood in front of the cell that held the man they had captured. Restrained in the chair, he looked oddly calm and composed for someone about to be interrogated. Or at least that was what he assumed. The Commander had told him he was planning to question the man now and asked if he wanted to watch.

He'd immediately accepted.

He was glad for his helmet, since it hid the uncertainty from his face. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure what to do. He shook his head to clear the thoughts. What kind of question was that? He was just here to watch, not actually _do_ anything.

He turned as he heard footsteps approaching. _Interesting._ Both the Commander and Dr. Vahlen walked his way and she was carrying some kind of contraption. What it's purpose was, he could only guess. But he imagined it wasn't exactly good for the man in the cell. The Commander also carried some case, he had no clue what was in it.

He placed a fist over his chest in an imitation of the Commander's salute. It had been something more soldiers were doing recently. It added to a sense of unity and purpose. All of them were part of XCOM now, not just the countries they came from.

The Commander returned the salute and Vahlen nodded. "Shawn, good to see you." The Commander greeted.

"You as well, Commander," he responded. "Thank you for letting me be here."

Shawn nodded towards Vahlen. "Doctor, a pleasure."

"The feeling is mutual," she responded.

Shawn indicated the contraption. "May I ask what that is?"

"A prototype," Vahlen answered. "Used for extracting images from the brain. Memories, thoughts, feelings. I've done as much initial testing as I could, but I need a live test subject."

 _Ohhh_. The very idea unnerved him. The mind was the one place that shouldn't be able to be breached. But now it seemed even that wasn't safe. "For our man in there, I assume."

"Yes," the Commander nodded. "I've dealt with men like him before. It's unlikely he'll be coerced by intimidation, torture or manipulation. Thus we must find other methods."

Shawn frowned. "Why not just use this anyway?"

"Like I said, it's a prototype," Vahlen repeated. "For the moment the application of this device is usually fatal."

"Ah, I see."

"I'd prefer we exhaust our options before we try it," the Commander continued. "But if those fail, we have a decent fallback plan."

"All right, got it."

"Stand back and watch," the Commander ordered. "Do not interfere unless ordered."

"Understood, sir."

The Commander opened the door and the three of them entered the room. The man just watched them, uttering not a word. Shawn walked to the middle of the wall, getting a good view of the two seated men. Vahlen stood behind the Commander, awkwardly holding her mind-reading device.

"I'm afraid I don't know your name," the Commander began. "So before we begin, would you like to share it?"

A smile crossed the man's face. "I don't think so. But I know who you are, _Commander_. The fabled hero of XCOM, leading humanity to victory over the aliens."

"I didn't realize I was so popular."

"Only to certain people."

"I'm sure." The Commander laced his fingers together. "Let's start with an easy question then. Who do you work for?"

The smug look on the man's face made Shawn want to punch him. "Do you _really_ think I'm going to answer that?"

"I'm honestly asking more as a courtesy," the Commander admitted with a grin. "Spies are the most stubborn people in the world. Just once could you just answer the question and save everyone a bit of time?"

"Do you tell your spies that?"

"Fair enough," the Commander nodded. "I can't really fault you for it either. I'd be the same if our roles were reversed."

"Then you might as well kill me now," the man said calmly. "I will tell you nothing."

There was something about the man that made Shawn believe him. Maybe it was the calm response and civil discussion, and that the man only had one leg now.

"I could hurt you," the Commander warned.

The man shrugged. "You could. But you also know it would be a waste of time."

"True," the Commander agreed. "Well, if you won't tell about who you work for, perhaps you could answer another question I have. Ali Ennor."

The man's eye widened and his mouth parted slightly, but corrected himself almost instantly. Too late, Shawn had seen it and so had the Commander. "Yes, I know about him." The Commander said.

"How?" the man demanded. "You really think that this changes anything between us?'"

"Maybe not," the Commander agreed. "Perhaps you know a little more about dbMotion, Airway LLC, Chao Trade International, Lionsgate Firearms? Or are you not cleared to know about those 'companies?'"

The names meant nothing to him, but the man was clearly growing worried. The Commander leaned forward. "Did you really think you were the only operative we captured? Your friends broke and you will soon follow."

Shawn was fairly sure the Commander was bluffing, but he was a _damn_ good bluffer. Had he known this was the only one capture, he would believe him. Unless of course the Commander _wasn't_ lying. _Did_ they have more captured agents?

"You lie," the man stated, though more uncertainly. "We die before speaking to your kind."

"Oh don't worry, your people are dead," the Commander reassured him. "But thanks to Vahlen here, we don't need to solicit your…cooperation…anymore." Vahlen stepped forward and placed the device on the table.

"It extracts images from your brain," Vahlen told him. "Memories, thoughts, anything that you can visualize. A little harder to go on pictures, true…"

"…But doable." The Commander finished.

The man swallowed. "The procedure is fatal, I assume."

The Commander shot a glance at Vahlen that he didn't know if it was fake or not. They could have rehearsed this and he wouldn't know. "Hmm. Vahlen, is it?"

"In theory, one could survive," Vahlen answered slowly. "Do keep in mind I'm still working on this. A few more subjects and I'll be able to create the next one with a _much_ higher chance of survival."

The man was clearly growing more nervous, but trying to hide it. "You could be lying. This could be a bluff."

The Commander smiled. "Then how do we know _this_?" He pulled out a piece of paper with some sort emblem drawn on it. The man's eye widened. "The image wasn't entirely clear," the Commander admitted. "But we recreated it as best we could."

The man shook his head violently. "You won't stop us. You have no clue what we're capable of."

"Please," the Commander dismissed. "I have the backing of the United Nations, as well as the finest soldiers in the world."

The man chuckled. "You know nothing, do you? You may _think_ you know us, but we are more numerous and embedded than you ever know."

"Stop with all this 'us' and 'we,'" the Commander snapped. "We both know who you work for. Let's cut the crap and actually speak like enemies."

A name. He wanted a name.

The man glared at him. "Fine," he spat. "You want a statement, enemy-to-enemy? EXALT will crush XCOM and this attempt of the United Nations to control the world through you will fail and once we remove this alien nuisance, we will remove the United Nations and restore this world to order."

EXALT. A name to go with the man.

The Commander didn't even try to hide his smile. "Thank you. That's all I wanted to know."

The man looked confused for a second before it dawned on him what had happened. "You tricked me."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Not entirely. I had the pieces, you've just put them in an order that makes more sense."

"You will pay for this." He promised. "EXALT never forgets."

"Probably not," the Commander agreed. "But I'll deal with them in due time." He walked over to Shawn and unhitched the laser pistol attached to his hip.

"I've gotten all I want from him," he told Shawn, putting the pistol in his hand. "It was your people he killed." He stepped back. "His fate is in your hands."

Shawn looked at the bound man. He knew what the 'right' thing to do would be. Send him off to trial, he'd be convicted and likely spend the rest of his life in prison. But if EXALT really had as much influence as he claimed, could they not just free him eventually? He didn't have to fear capital punishment as France had outlawed that years ago.

He couldn't risk that. He wouldn't let his countrymen die unavenged. He slowly walked over to the man and lowered the pistol nearly a foot from his face. "[This is for my countrymen, and all those you've killed.]" He said in his native tongue. Then pulled the trigger.

The laser burned a clean hole through his head and the smell of burnt flesh filled the room. The man's head slumped forward, dead. He turned back to the Commander who gave him a small nod. Of approval? He didn't know, and at the moment, didn't entirely care. He gingerly handed the pistol back to the Commander.

"Thank you." He said.

The Commander placed a fist over his chest. "You countrymen are avenged."

"Yes," Shawn answered wistfully. "Yes they are."

The Commander smiled and patted him on the arm a few times. "Get some rest, or whatever you do for fun. Decorate some more helmets, maybe."

Shawn chuckled. "I don't think I'll try pulling that again for a while."

"Go on," the Commander encouraged. "You've done enough. Be ready to take the fight to this EXALT group."

Shawn gave a feral grin under the helmet. "I look forward to it."

***

_The Citadel, Detention Cell #5_

EXALT.

He had a name. He had a contact. He had clues. Now he had to put them together.

He'd never heard of the organization, but if they were as shadowy as the EXALT operative had boasted, there was a good reason for that. Though the man was certainly exaggerating. There was no organization on the planet who could have as much control or influence as he claimed, else they would be ruling the world.

So that lead to the next most obvious question: what was their goal? The operative had called the aliens a 'nuisance' so they either didn't consider them a threat or had plans of their own. He also mentioned something about 'returning the world to order' which he took as code for controlling the world. Rather cliché as goals went, but people went to great lengths for power.

Zhang was going to have a field day with all this information. And this was one operation he was going to keep a close watch on. Until he knew more about EXALT and their capabilities, Zhang and him needed to work together. It had been a while since he'd worked on an Intelligence op. It would be a nice diversion between the war with the aliens.

He slowly filtered out thoughts of EXALT and the upcoming shadow war as he approached the final cell. One more interrogation and he was done. Out of all of them, this was one he wasn't sure he'd want to know the answers given.

He was more convinced of Lemmert's claim the aliens hadn't started this, which narrowed the plausible suspects down to two. EXALT and the Council. This might answer who truly was behind it. He opened the door and walked inside.

Artur Wernher looked as composed and professional as could be in a cell, sitting in a chair with his fingers laced together on the table. "About time," he bit out. "I was afraid you'd forgotten about me."

The Commander smirked. "No chance of that."

"I'm going to give you one chance," Wernher warned. "Let me go now and I'll forget this ever happened."

The Commander raised an eyebrow. "Or?"

He glared at him. "Or I'll have you arrested, tried and if possible, executed."

"Harsh," the Commander commented, sitting down and setting his case down. "You must know some powerful people to get _that_ sentence for me."

"I control Germany's largest television channel," Wernher stated. "Yes I know people."

"People like Patrick Rush?" The Commander asked.

Wernher looked caught off guard. "How do you know him?"

"As it happens, he's the reason I have this position now," the Commander answered. "But my history with him isn't important. But I have some questions for you."

"You are holding me illegally," Wernher informed him. "I don't care if the President of the United States gave you this position, you're going to lose it when I get out of here."

"Implying you _will_ get out," the Commander answered wearily. "Mr. Wernher, for the past twelve hours I've dealt with threats, bravado, humor, and denial. I'm quite tired of it all so I'll make this clear. You are not going anywhere until I have what I want."

"Or else what?" he demanded.

"People will die."

"Humph. Sure."

"Several people have tested me today," the Commander warned. "Each one regretted it."

Wernher seemed to be considering it. His aged face was more contemplative than combative. But he shook his head. "You can ask your questions, but I will not answer."

The Commander sighed. "Why were you meeting Patrick Rush?"

"This may surprise you," Wernher leaned forward as if telling a secret. "But I don't usually reveal private conversations. Especially those with United Nations liaisons."

"Then tell me, why the abnormal coverage of all the protests and rallies in Germany?"

"Simple," Wernher shrugged. "Ratings. Like it or not, people respond to excitement and that surely qualifies."

The Commander's eyes narrowed. "Surely you know that your continued coverage only emboldens and encourages them?"

"Do you have some point to make?" He demanded. "Because if so, just say it."

"I think that you're working with someone to destabilize Germany," the Commander revealed. "The more coverage the protestors get, the more they grow and the more Germany crumbles."

Wernher let out a laugh. But it sounded forced. "And just _who_ would have the authority or give _me_ orders?"

The Commander cocked his head. "Who said anything about orders?"

"Figure of speech," the man waved away quickly. "But my point still stands."

The Commander steepled his fingers. "Have you ever heard of the Council?"

His mouth parted slightly but he quickly closed it. "No." he lied.

"Then perhaps EXALT?"

Wernher snorted. "Please. You really think such an organization exists?"

"So you _have_ heard of it."

"Whispers," he admitted. "Admittedly from my friends at the UN. They assure me that EXALT is just a few rich guys with dreams of world domination. Simply put, a fable that fails to match reality."

He appeared to be telling the truth there, or at least he believed it. But he was more inclined to believe the operative he'd just spoken to. But he was lying about the Council and he wanted answers now.

"You lied," he stated. "You know what the Council is. Tell me what you met with Patrick about."

"No."

"Very well." He was tired of mind games today and had no interest dragging this out any longer than necessary. He pulled out a tablet and set the reception feed to Spectre Three. Or more accurately, his sniper rifle. He turned the tablet so it faced Wernher.

"What is this?" He demanded as he leaned forward, then the blood slowly drained from his face.

"Your wife seems like a nice woman," the Commander said coldly as he activated his earpiece. "Spectre Three, do you have a shot?"

The answer came from the tablet. _"Affirmative, Commander. She's in my sights."_

Wernher's head jerked up. "You're bluffing. She's innocent!"

The Commander nodded. "She is."

"Listen," he pleaded. "Do whatever you like to me. But leave my family out of it!"

"Answer my questions and I will."

"You don't know what you're asking!"

"Spectre Three. Take her-"

"Wait!"

"Hold order, Spectre Three."

" _Copy that."_

He looked at a panting Wernher. "I'll tell you," he whispered. "Just don't hurt my family."

The Commander set the tablet to the side. "Then tell me, what you were discussing with Patrick Rush."

Wernher let out a breath. "How to fix our mistake."

"And what mistake was that?"

"Destabilizing Germany."

The Commander leaned back. "The Council _intentionally_ started this?" he hissed.

"It got out of control-"

"And what was the goal? What did you _think_ would happen?"

"Look, I don't know what the original reason was but it had something to do with you."

"Of course it did," the Commander growled, his fists clenched. "I just didn't think they hated me so much they'd sacrifice a damn country!"

"It wasn't to sacrifice it," Wernher insisted. "Just to scare the German government. If people became terrified of the alien threat, then it would reflect badly on you and might convince Germany to pull out of the XCOM project."

"Further damaging my reputation," the Commander spit out. "Clever."

"You've made some powerful enemies-"

"Shut. Up." He growled. Wernher cowered in his seat.

"What's your part in this?" He finally asked.

"I was to have my station bring attention to the alien threat," Wernher explained rapidly. "Then the rallies and protests started and we thought we might as well capitalize so we started that. The censorship was planned and was supposed to be the breaking point for Germany. But they were more stubborn than we anticipated and it soon escalated beyond our control…"

He trailed off as he saw the Commander's murderous gaze.

It made sense now. The Council had started this, then it seemed, judging from the order of instigators appearing, that this EXALT group had taken advantage of the situation and latched onto it, adding puppets with additional agendas besides the alien threat. Then the _actual_ aliens had seen the chaos and were also taking advantage of the entire situation.

"Have you heard the name Ali Ennor?" he asked a minute later.

Wernher nodded violently. "Yes, he's represents Australia on the Council."

Was that right? He was certain that name was connected to EXALT now that he'd determined that Jochern and Corinna had been his contact. Was he wrong? But the agenda's didn't fit the Council's alien fear mongering agenda. So did EXALT know the name and used it to throw anyone off who was listening? Or was Ali working for EXALT all along?

"Do you know the names of the other Councilors?" he demanded.

"A few," he answered.

"Write them down." He did and the Commander calmly took the sheet and placed it in his case. He laced his fingers together, rested them on the table and continued in a reasonable voice.

"Now, here's what's going to happen," he began, his tone restrained, calm. "I am going to release you. You are going back to your job and ceasing _all_ coverage of the protests. You are going to tell Patrick Rush you quit. I don't care how you do it, I don't care if you have to lie through your teeth. If you air one more second of protest footage, if you tell Rush anything about this conversation, if you run to the Council for protection, I will find you and I will dismember your wife and children piece by piece until you wish to die. Then I will kill you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes!" he stuttered. "Very clear!"

The Commander gave a wide humorless smile. "Excellent! You'll be taken back by the end of the day. Wouldn't want your wife to worry." With that he walked out, trying to contain the burning rage inside him.

***

_The Citadel, Alien Containment_

For the first time in a very long time, the Commander wasn't sure what to do.

It wasn't the first time he'd had to deal with traitors, corrupt officials or sabotage, but this was different. He couldn't fix this problem without hurting XCOM. If he really wanted to, he probably _could_ fight a legal battle based on that conversation, but with nearly half of the Council aligned against him, he wasn't confident of his odds.

But he didn't have the time to wage a battle there. The aliens weren't going to stop and let him sort this out and with EXALT in the picture, they might also start actively working against him. So he potentially had three separate wars to deal with.

He gritted his teeth. This was a decision that couldn't be made just by him. The rest of the Internal Council had to know. Perhaps they'd think of something he couldn't. In the meantime, Vahlen was about to start work interrogating the sectoid. She no doubt would be very excited. He'd try to appear happy for her, even if he didn't feel very motivated at the moment.

The door to the new alien containment room slid open to a pristine environment. Similar to the research labs, harsh white light shown down and the room was impeccably clean. The room was smaller than the labs, in the center was a massive glass tube that he assumed was where the alien was kept.

Computers and monitors were hooked up to the container and several scientists were monitoring them. The sedated sectoid laid in the center of the container and Vahlen stood in front of it, checking something on her tablet.

"Vahlen," he greeted walking up. "I assume you're ready to begin."

She looked up and smiled as he approached. "Commander! Yes, we're ready, the sedative should wear off in a few minutes."

He managed a small smile. "Excellent. So how do you plan to do this?"

"Once the creature wakes up, we'll take some scans and tests of the live specimen," Vahlen explained. "The procedure is very invasive and painful, at least from our animal tests, but not lethal. This will allow me to fine to the memory device to specific genetic and physical traits of the creature, allowing a clearer extraction of information."

"Good." He answered.

She glanced at him and frowned. "Are you alright? You seem worried."

He let out a sigh. So much for her not noticing. "No, I'm really not. But I'll tell you later." He motioned at the cell. "I think it's waking up."

Vahlen immediately turned her attention to the alien as it groggily woke up, looking around confused. It let out some of the guttural sounds he'd heard before as it scampered around, bumping into the glass.

"Begin the procedure." Vahlen ordered the scientists and two mechanical arms with some kind of emitter appeared, a pulsing blue glow at the ends. The sectoid began chittering frantically and started thrusting it's head at the glass as a purple aura flashing around it's head.

"It's using psionics," the Commander noted mildly. "Is that an issue?"

"The emitters and container are designed to suppress psionic activity," Vahlen reassure him. "The sectoid isn't powerful enough to overcome them."

It appeared true. The little alien didn't seem really capable of doing anything but letting out little chitters of pain. "Begin phase two." Vahlen ordered. A sleeve of metal came down over the glass and secured itself with a clang and hiss.

"Are you going to try and communicate with it?" The Commander asked, turning to her.

"I will," she shrugged. "Though I'm afraid the language barrier will pose something of a challenge. But I'm not interested with commutating with the creature at this time. Extracting what's in it's mind is most important to me."

He gave a grim nod. "Carry on. And let me know when you finish."

She nodded. "Certainly." He nodded and began walking away when she grabbed his arm, he turned back to her, concern was written on her face.

"Commander, what's going on?" She asked, worry in her eyes.

"This is something everyone needs to hear," he answered wearily. "I'll tell you everything then."

"Very well," she relented, letting go. "I'll finish as soon as I can."

"Don't rush," he told her. "What you learn could be vital for the war."

With that he turned and exited the room, pondering how to possibly fix this mess.


	20. A Special Request

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The Commander stood once again in front of the holotable in the Situation Room. It was probably his imagination, but the room seemed dimmer. The atmosphere felt more oppressive. Even the soft blue glow of the holotable did little to lighten it. Probably just his imagination and more likely a reflection of his mood.

His face was a mask of calm, a trait he’d gotten much better at recently. But it was needed now more than ever. People needed to see a professional in charge now, not a fiery and irrational soldier. Now a few hours after the interrogations, he’d calmed down enough to rationally consider the situation.

First, the facts. One: The Council was involved in the initial destabilization of Germany. Wernher had said “The Council” in broad terms, but the Commander found it hard to believe that _every_ councilor was involved. It was…well, not impossible, but highly improbable, given he was in this position in the first place.

No, he was inclined to believe that it was only a few councilor who had organized this. Now how those councilors _were_ , he didn’t know. When they had first spoken, the male Speaker had given him the names of the countries who had opposed his appointment. However, he was hesitant to cast blame on them without knowing the extent of their involvement.

Except for Ali Ennor, the Australian Councilor. That was proof of Australia’s involvement as far as he was concerned. But aside from him, there were no other name that could be _directly_ linked to the Council. That list Wernher had provided, while it would prove useful, didn’t tell him who was involved and to what extent.

He rested his hands on the edges of the holotable. He wanted to act. To do _something_. But he couldn’t move until he knew _exactly_ who was involved and even then, he had to move _extremely_ carefully. He had no doubt that the faction of councilors aligned against him would exploit every technicality and loophole they could.

Back during his days during the War on Terror, this wouldn’t be a major decision. Once everyone had been identified, they would be interrogated and executed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that here.

The door hissed open and Bradford and Zhang walked in.

“Wernher is being returned to Germany,” Bradford informed him, saluting and adoption a firm stance in front of him.

“Good.” The Commander answered, as neutrally as possible. He glanced over at Zhang. “Have you made your decision?”

Zhang nodded, his stern face as unreadable as ever. “Yes. You have good instincts, Commander. The kid will need to receive some interrogation resistance training, but I believe he’ll be a useful operative.”

Good. He would have been slightly disappointed to send the kid back after everything he’d gone through. “Excellent. Then I’ll leave him to you.”

“I assume Wernher cooperated as well?” Bradford asked, as he tapped on his tablet.

The Commander pursed his lips. “He did. Eventually. But that’s not the reason he’s being sent back.”

Zhang frowned. “Then what is the reason.”

The Commander crossed his arms. “I’ll wait to tell you what I learned. I don’t want to repeat myself twice. Suffice to say that it’s not good.”

Bradford’s face tightened in concern. “How bad?”

“Enough to consider action against the Council.”

Bradford opened his mouth like he was going to laugh, then stopped at the Commander’s dead serious expression. “You’re serious.”

“There are several topics I don’t joke about,” the Commander replied sternly. “Possible action against countries or organizations is one of them.”

Zhang made an “mhmmm” sound, and the Commander suspected he had guessed what had happened. But he kept silent and the Commander appreciated that. The door hissed open again and Shen and Vahlen walked in. Shen looked subdued but Vahlen by contrast looked ecstatic.

“Commander,” Shen greeted icily. Apparently still upset over that talk before. Well, hopefully he’d drop that tone once they got started.

“Commander!” Vahlen greeted enthusiastically, though her smile dimmed as she seemed to pick up on the somber atmosphere. He inclined his head toward both of them.

“Vahlen, Shen. Glad you could come.”

“We’re all here,” Bradford said, putting his tablet down. “What’s going on?”

The Commander pursed his lips. “All of the interrogations proceeded without incident with each of them providing some information of value. From them, I can confirm the existence of a third party influencing world events. The organization is called EXALT. Its purpose and reach are currently not known.”

The Commander started pacing back and forth as he continued. “Normally, that would be a major concern, and it still is. But in light of my interrogation with Wernher, I’ve learned something worse.” He stopped and looked directly at them.

“The Council, or at least a faction, was behind the initial destabilization of Germany.”

They each reacted with differing degrees of shock. Zhang betrayed nothing, though it was likely he was just skilled at concealing his emotions. Shen’s mouth was partially opened and his face a mask of surprise. Vahlen blinked and stepped back, shaking her head in disbelief. Bradford leaned on the table, his eyes filled with confusion.

“Are you certain?” Bradford asked urgently.

“Completely.” The Commander stated grimly.

“Could he have been lying?” Shen asked, sounding more desperate than anything.

The Commander thought back to Wernher’s terrified expression as Spectre Three had almost taken the shot. “No.” he answered. “He wasn’t.”

“Why?” Vahlen asked, her worried tone mixed with confusion.

“To discredit me,” the Commander answered flatly. “Based on Wernher, it seemed the idea was to initially scare Germany into withdrawing from XCOM. This faction of the Council against me would use that as an example of how I’ve ‘failed.’ Though they miscalculated.”

“Miscalculated how?” Zhang questioned.

“From my interrogations, it seems EXALT took advantage and planted their own people with their own agendas inside Germany.” The Commander answered. “Then the aliens took an interest and began placing their infiltrators inside the country. Now the Council apparently has no clue how to fix this.”

“Do we have a name?” Bradford asked. “Anything?”

“Wernher provided a list,” the Commander answered, reaching for his tablet and started tapping. “I presume they are councilors, but I don’t know for sure. Nor do I know how many are involved. Only one person can really be linked to this, Ali Ennor. The Australian Councilor.”

“Then we need to remove him,” Vahlen practically hissed, her words laced with venom. Her eyes filled with restrained fury. “He’s undermined XCOM and ruined my country! He can’t get away with this!”

Zhang shook his head and the Commander tried to figure out an answer that wouldn’t anger her further. She had an emotional stake in this situation even more than he did. If Germany fell, it would be primarily the fault of Ali Ennor. She was right to be angry, but he also know they couldn’t do anything. Yet.

“He won’t,” the Commander promised her. “But we’re not dealing with a rogue organization like EXALT. This is a member of the Council, one of the most powerful men in the world. We can’t move against him until we know exactly who and how many are involved.”

“Then I suggest we get started.” She stated icily, almost spitting the words out.

“Yes, we will.” The Commander nodded and looked at Bradford. “Bradford, I’ve forwarded you the list of names Wernher provided me. I want profiles as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do that, Commander,” Bradford promised grimly. “Zhang, I suggest we coordinate on this.”

“With pleasure,” Zhang answered. “My agents and I will assist any way we can.”

Shen shook his head. “I knew some of the Council didn’t like you…but this? Sacrificing a country? Why do they hate you so much?”

“People hold grudges,” the Commander answered, for once not lying. “I suppose my past is hard to forget for some of them.”

“We have to answer this some way.” Bradford face hardened as he continued. “Even if we don’t move against Ennor, we can’t just let this stand.”

“You have the footage of his confessing, correct?” Vahlen asked.

The Commander nodded. “Yes, but it won’t be enough.”

“ _What_?” She demanded. “He _admitted_ to it.”

“The statement was provided under duress,” Zhang answered for him. “This faction of the Council will simply argue it be dismissed on those grounds alone.”

Vahlen looked indignant at that answer, but didn’t say anything. The Commander understood her frustration all too well. This was why he rarely turned people over to the governments. The legal systems were hit or miss as far as convictions went. Not good enough for him.

He let out a sigh. “Unfortunately, we have to prioritize and for now, the situation in Germany has to be resolved before we move forward, one way or another.”

Bradford rubbed his forehead. “Based on the data my team has collected, the country will collapse within two weeks unless there is a massive shift in public opinion or the military intervenes.”

“We’ve removed the heads of two major protest groups,” the Commander told them. “Along with cutting off information to the third. Wernher is going to stop coverage on the protests so that should hopefully slow the spread of panic.”

“Not for very long,” Zhang answered grimly. “There is some confusion now, but it’s not going away any time soon. The groups are too large to simply disintegrate from the loss of a leader. I imagine it’ll be less than a week before replacements take over.”

“Damn it,” the Commander muttered. “And it’ll likely be worse now.”

“Likely,” Zhang agreed. “My agents are noting increasing approval in violent rhetoric. If the wrong person takes over, then we’re looking at a minor war.”

“Can your agents manipulate the system?” The Commander asked.

“I don’t have enough agents or time to make that happen,” Zhang answered, shaking his head. “My people _might_ be able to delay appointments for a week, maybe two, but that would involving delaying other operations.”

“If people start openly fighting the police, the military has to step in,” Shen said. “Surely they know that?”

“We have the aliens and EXALT still involved,” the Commander reminded him. “They _want_ the country to fall. Stirring up the populace is easy. Give people an enemy and they will attack without thinking. Protestors and activists are driven by emotion, not logic.”

“We cannot ignore EXALT either,” Zhang reminded him. “If this organization is as large or influential as the agent claims, they pose a serious threat.”

The Commander sighed. “I know. But for now the alien threat is a larger concern as well as the Council. We deal with Germany, then the Council and once we have some _relative_ peace, start looking into dealing with EXALT.”

“Regardless, I’m going to start investigating them.” Zhang stated.

“Proceed,” the Commander nodded. “As long as your investigations don’t detract from our current objectives.”

“Of course.”

“Lemmert also provided me a list of positions the aliens have infiltrated,” The Commander continued. “I’ve passed the list on to Habicht, and unless the aliens have stepped up their game significantly, they should be relatively easy to remove when we want.”

“Provided he was telling the truth,” Bradford commented.

“He was. Which reminds me, Vahlen?”

She cocked her head. “Yes.”

“Once you finish with the sectoid, I think you’ll want to examine Lemmert.”

She looked confused. “Why?”

“It seems the aliens modified him in some way,” the Commander explained. “Made him immune to pain.”

Her eyes widened. “Truly? Yes, my team will take a look at him as soon as possible,” She paused. “Are there any…restrictions on how we examine him?”

The corners of his lips turned up. “No. Perform whatever experiments you wish. If he is uncooperative, I’ll leave his fate to you.”

She nodded, a smoldering glint in her eye. “For his sake, I hope he cooperates.”

“Doctor…” Shen began, then stopped as she slowly turned to glare at him. He closed his mouth, though the Commander had no doubt he would be speaking to her in private later.

Shen redirected his attention back to the Commander. “Perhaps we’re looking at this wrong. Could this Australian Councilor be a part of EXALT?”

“Possibly,” the Commander admitted, looking down and frowning. “That’s one reason I want to hold off acting until we know more. But we don’t have enough evidence either way.”

“If EXALT has managed to compromise an organization like the Council, I think we may have bigger problems.” Zhang noted.

It was quiet for a few seconds. “I think that covers the major issues,” the Commander said, breaking the silence. “Bradford, I want our next satellite deployed over Canada.”

Bradford nodded. “It will be launched within the day. However, our uplinks will need to be upgraded if we expand beyond North America. The range can only extend so far.”

“How far?”

“Probably to South America, and if we push, perhaps parts of Europe.”

“Perhaps Israel could be some help here,” the Commander mused. “Regardless, that will do for now.” He looked over to Shen. “How is the armor coming?”

Shen seemed to get some of his energy back. “Very well. Since Vahlen and her team finished the alloys, we’ve been created a new armor design that’s relatively inexpensive and provides roughly three times the protection our current armor has.”

The Commander smiled, relieved at some good news. “Excellent. When do you think you’ll have a prototype?”

Shen rubbed his chin, thinking. “Within two days at most. Production should start no later than five.”

“Our soldiers will appreciate that.” The Commander told him gratefully. “Well done.”

He swept his gaze across all of them. “That covers everything important. You all know what to do.” He gave his salute to them. “Dismissed.”

 Zhang and Bradford imitated his salute back and Vahlen and Shen nodded. All of them turned and exited the room to perform their tasks. The Commander turned to the world map, contemplating strategies for the fall of Germany and where the aliens would strike in the meantime.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Engineering Bay_

Luke could admit to a feeling of nervousness, but this was something that should be sorted out sooner than later. Despite the Commander’s promise to look into removing the chip from his head, he’d been understandably distracted and busy to really do something about it.

And honestly, he agreed with his focus. Germany was, and should be, the priority now. He’d been amazed at how the country was disintegrating before his eyes. It was painful to watch his country fall apart. Sure, the aliens were probably involved, but there was no way just alien intervention could shake the country the way it had been.

Some of the soldiers had asked him how he was doing, which he didn’t mind overmuch. At the moment, he was still hoping that the situation would resolve itself. But it was looking less and less likely every day. Though he sometimes wished that people had a more substantial reason for talking to him _other_ than offering their condolences.

They meant well, but he disliked feeling like the only part of him that mattered was either his country or olympian status. It was part of the reason he’d been one of the more reclusive celebrities in Germany. It was exhausting speaking with people whose only perception of you was one defining trait.

Maybe that was one reason that he enjoyed talking with Mira so much. Despite all the times they’d spoken, he didn’t think she’d asked him a question about himself once. She was surprisingly open about herself, but didn’t seem to expect the same in return. He didn’t necessarily agree with her on…well… being completely honest, a large range of subjects. But he could see why she held her opinions.

The doors to the Engineering Bay slid open and Luke walked into the bustling workshop. A dozen or so engineers were at various conveyor belts, testing areas and computers. He assumed several more were at the Foundry, working on who knows what. But he wasn’t here to admire their efficiency. Shen had said to come by around this time, hopefully…

Ah, there.

In his green jacket that went over a suit for some reason (Luke didn’t exactly know what prompted that particular fashion choice), Shen stood near one of the workbenches, which had several hammers and various tools laid out. On another workbench was what looked like a new armor shell. He raised an eyebrow. Could they finally be getting an upgrade?

Shen looked up and noticed his approach. Adjusting his glasses, he turned and inclined his head. “Ah, Mr. Warner, I wondered if you would be coming today.”

“Well, you said around this time,” Luke answered with a smile. “Bad time?”

Shen shook his head. “Frankly, there really isn’t such a thing. It’s been continually busy, so it’s impossible to really designate it as such.”

Luke winced. “I don’t want to disrupt anything going on. Especially since this isn’t exactly critical yet.”

“No,” Shen interrupted. “Don’t apologize.” He motioned forward. “Let’s walk.”

They began making their way through the busy workshop. From all the sparks flying and the hot air, Luke wondered if he should have worn his armor instead of his tan military fatigues. “Was that armor I saw?” He asked Shen.

The man gave a small smile. “Indeed. Not finished yet, but we’ll hopefully begin production in a few days. I’m sure it will be appreciated.”

Luke chuckled. “You have no idea. This might be better received than the laser weapons if you can believe that.”

“I’m sure.” Shen agreed. They kept walking in silence for a few seconds. “I must apologize for taking this long to speak with you,” Shen said. “But events have been rather…hectic…lately.”

“Don’t apologize,” Luke dismissed. “We both know the alien threat is more pressing.” They walked in silence a few more seconds and Luke took a breath. “So I assume you finished your analysis of the chip?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Shen paused. “Good news and bad.”

He had a feeling the bad news was going to be more extensive. “So what’s the good news?”

“The chip _can_ be removed.”

Oh, what a relief. It’s not like he hadn’t figured out _that_ before. He resisted letting out a patronizing sigh. “So what’s the bad news?”

Shen let out a sigh. “The Chinese did their job exceptionally well. The chip is inserted in such a way as to detonate if it disconnects from your brain. I suppose some of the mixed news is that the chip is computerized enough that I can modify some of the settings wirelessly.”

Luke blinked. “Could you deactivate it?”

“No,” Shen answered sadly. “There is no kill switch. Whoever designed it likely realized the flaw early on and this is the result.”

“Alright,” Luke mused. “You could modify the settings. Which ones, exactly?”

“If needed, I could reduce the timer to zero and detonate it immediately,” Shen answered slowly. “Not useful to you. The only other variable is the blast radius. That chip is surprisingly volatile.”

“Just _how_ volatile?”

“Ten foot radius.”

Luke chuckled. “That’s funny, doctor.”

“I thought it was a mistake at first,” Shen agreed. “Then I did some research and found a similar chip.”

“Really?” Luke asked. “From where? And for what?”

“It was a chip designed for suicide bombers back during the war,” Shen explained grimly. “Furthermore, the chips were usually synched to any explosives the user was carrying, causing further damage.”

Luke crossed his arms as they passed a testing range. “The chip isn’t very big, I know that. How could it possibly have that range, synched explosives or no?”

“I haven’t determined that yet,” Shen admitted. “It possibly incorporates nitroglycerin or nuclear power, though the latter I would find hard to believe. But from the damage these chips caused in the past, I’m inclined to believe the numbers.”

“So how would it be removed?” Luke finally asked.

“Very, very carefully and slowly,” Shen answered. “This is after we fully analyze the chip and even then it might detonate and still kill you.”

Hmm. About what he expected. “If you could increase the blast radius, could you also lower it so I would virtually be harmless?”

Shen sighed. “I wish. But no, the minimum value is hard-coded and is fatal. The person who designed it did their job well.”

This was going as well as he expected. He’d hoped it would be different, but since it didn’t look particularly good, he would proceed for the actual reason he was here. “So what you’re saying is that it’s possible, just not very likely and would take up quite a bit of time.”

“Essentially, yes.”

“I assume things aren’t going to get any less busy.” He stated, looking around.

“Not until tensions calm down in Germany,” Shen commented, sounding oddly subdued. “And even then, perhaps not.”

Luke took a breath. “Thought as much. In that case there’s something I want you to do until you actually have time to remove this thing.”

Shen appraised him. “What is it?”

“I want you to synch the chip to a detonator, as well as some explosives, set the radius as high as possible and give it to me.”

Shen’s mouth was open in shock. “What? Absolutely not!”

Luke let out a sigh. As much as he appreciated the good doctor’s morals, he wasn’t going to be dissuaded. “Yes, please. I’ve thought this through. If I’m going to die, it’ll be on my terms, and if I kill some aliens doing it, all the better. But don’t refuse, else I’ll figure it out myself.”

Shen rubbed his forehead. “Don’t you think you’re being a little hasty? You still have at least half a year before it goes off.”

“No,” Luke shook his head. “I don’t think so. The aliens are only going to escalate their attacks and you’ll be kept busy for even longer. And even you said there’s a good chance I’ll die regardless.”

“It’s better than blowing yourself up!”

“Debatable,” Luke disagreed, his voice stronger than he intended. “I never really saw myself as the sacrificial type, but I’d do it in a heartbeat if it would save my comrades. Not a bad death as far as I’m concerned.”

Shen sighed. “You’re set on this.”

“I am.”

Shen muttered something under his breath. Luke couldn’t make it out but it sounded something like “ _God forgive me,”_ or “ _Idiot suicidal soldier.”_ The first guess was probably what he said and the second probably why he was thinking.

Not that he really disagreed.

Really, would any sane person seriously consider blowing themselves up?

“Very well,” Shen said, sounding defeated. “Come with me.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

“So do you know what they learned?”

Liam shook his head. “No details. But from the people I’ve talked to it’s big.”

Patricia frowned. Her mind trying to process the possible scenarios. “How big?”

“Only the Internal Council knows everything,” Liam clarified. “But he said that Shen was visibly upset and distracted most of the day.”

It was interesting how the spies learned their information. Liam established contacts who gave him what they knew while Mira…well…Patricia had no idea what she did, but she was clearly one of the most informed people here. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know.

She’d considered establishing some kind of contact network like Liam, but in all honestly, she really didn’t see the need. Sure, it was interesting to learn about the secret goings-on the Commander wasn’t telling them. But the issue with that was that there had to be a certain degree of distrust, and she didn’t really have a reason to distrust the Commander.

Regardless, it made sense the Liam and Mira would try to learn though. If she knew one thing about spies, they were paranoid by nature. She looked over at Abby seated next to Liam. “What do you think?”

Abby stirred her soup. “Have no idea,” she answered distractedly. “The Commander believes there might be a third party involved in Germany, but that’s just speculation.”

Liam’s eyebrow raised, something Patricia had learned was his expression of surprise. “How did you know that?”

She shrugged and gazed into the depths of her meal. “I’d prefer not to talk about it now, if that’s alright.”

Liam frowned, but let it drop. “Sure.”

Patricia eyed the young woman. Abby had been acting strange ever since she’d joined them at the table. She’d assumed she was just tired or having an off day, but from the way she stared listlessly into the distance or answered in a toneless voice, it indicated she was more or less running on autopilot. Which meant something was seriously bothering her.

The question of _what_ was something she’d been pondering throughout their entire (admittedly short) conversation. She didn’t know her as well as Liam, but from observing and talking to her, the list of things that could distract her like this was fairly short.

If she didn’t know better, she’d assume that someone she’d known had died, as her behavior almost exactly matched someone going through that. However, no one had died recently unless…perhaps someone outside XCOM? Possibly, and it might explain why she was keeping quiet about it.

However, the chances were low that was actually the case. Patricia had a feeling it was connected to the recent captures. The identities of which very few knew, but almost everyone suspected that they were linked to the protests in Germany. It was also accepted that they were likely being questioned.

Abby had expressed a dislike for the Terrorist Commander and his methods, and while the Commander of _XCOM_ hadn’t agreed with _all_ his tactics, it followed that both of them would occasionally utilize the same methods. And one of the Commander’s most infamous methods was his interrogations and use of torture.

She didn’t have proof, yet. But she suspected that the Commander wouldn’t hesitate to torture the captives if it helped the situation in Germany. And torture was a _very_ polarizing subject. The people who were for it ranged from moderate to extreme, while those against were staunchly against it in all forms. A rather naïve view, if she was totally honest. Sure, it was incredibly inhumane, but there were some cases where she felt it was warranted. She supposed she fell somewhat in the middle of the debate.

All that to say that she was pretty sure what was bothering Abby. Based on her previous comments, views and mood, Patricia was pretty sure she’d been witness to an interrogation session by the Commander. She could very well be wrong, but there was too much circumstantial evidence for her to ignore, so she was going with that as the most plausible theory.

Which led to the next essential question: why was she there? Her first instinct was that the Commander had anticipated that the interrogation would turn bloody and he’d bring in a medic to make sure the subject didn’t die. Which held up reasonably well until she remembered that a medic would be unnecessary as equipment like the med-kit was available. Any would could be patched up quickly and even amputated body parts could be sterilized that way. Not to mention that the Commander was probably proficient in the usage of torture and would know how to avoid pushing a subject too far.

Furthermore, why Abby or all people? He had to know she wasn’t going to be the best person psychologically for this, so why choose her? Even someone like Vahlen could do the same thing and likely wouldn’t have the same objections.

So with that in mind, it led to one obvious conclusion. It was test of some kind. Perhaps her willingness to follow orders? Unlikely. She didn’t see the Commander pulling that on any of them. A test of fortitude? More likely, but still not for sure. Perhaps…

“-talking with Shawn,” Liam was saying. “Apparently that man they captured works for a group called EXALT.”

Patricia snapped out of her internal investigative work. “They managed to break him?” She asked, rather surprised.

Liam nodded. “They did.”

“Hmm.” She rested her arms on the table. “Out of everyone they captured, I wouldn’t have expected them to get anything out of him.”

“From what Shawn describes, the Commander tricked him using information from the previous interrogations,” Liam explained. “Or at least that’s what he thinks.”

“What was Shawn doing there in the first place?” She asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“The Commander asked if he wanted to observe,” Liam shrugged. “He didn’t really say much more than that. Aside from that the man is dead now.”

Abby flinched at that. Patricia had a guess that she’d jumped to conclusions, though to be fair, the implications seemed very obvious. Well, she certainly wouldn’t lose sleep over a…terrorist? Criminal? Whatever he was. If Shawn had pulled the trigger, more power to him. She didn’t care about the fate of someone like that.

“Good riddance,” Patricia muttered absentmindedly. She refocused her gaze on Liam. “Never heard of any group called EXALT. You?”

Liam sipped on his soda. “Never by that name.”

She cocked her head. “So you think you may have encountered them before?”

Liam stared off into the distance, a sign of contemplation. “Possibly. Secret organizations have existed for centuries. Mostly legends, though I believe there is usually some truth to them. ”

Patricia snorted. “In your dreams. Those are nothing more than stories.”

Liam shrugged. “Perhaps, but I’ve learned not to dismiss things simply for sounding outlandish. Just a year ago we were convinced alien life didn’t exist.”

“Fair point,” she conceded, stirring her drink with a straw. “So what then? You think EXALT is the new Illuminati?”

“I don’t have enough information to say either way,” Liam admitted, frowning as he absently tapped the table. “Remember we’re working from incomplete information. But something doesn’t add up to me. I worked as a CT agent for years and had access to every known intelligence agency or organization that could affect Russian stability. EXALT never appeared once.”

Patricia contemplated that. She didn’t want to start forming connections in her head until she had a clearer picture. “You have a theory.” She stated.

He rested his arms on the table. “Several,” he admitted. “The most likely explanation is that EXALT is nothing more than a renamed organization that has existed for decades. Depending on who they answered to, it could explain their interest in Germany as well as their funding.”

Patricia nodded. It did make sense, but, at least from what she’d seen, EXALT seemed to be a professional organization. Manipulating the populace of Germany and ambushing a military convoy couldn’t be done by just anybody. She glanced over at Abby who was still staring listlessly into the distance.

Hmm. Time to see how much she was paying attention. “Hey Abby, what’s your take on all this?”

She blinked and looked at her, blue eyes filled with conflict. “Hmm?”

Patricia sighed. “Have you been paying attention at all?”

Abby’s shoulders slumped and she let out a sigh. “Not really, sorry. I’m not good company at the moment.”

Liam looked at her in concern. Patricia had to echo the sentiment. As serious as she dared, she addressed Abby. “Hey. What’s going on?”

She attempted a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s not important.”

“You’ve been acting strange ever since you sat down,” Liam commented. “For you this is clearly important. You can tell us.”

She took a sip of her water and sat up a bit straighter. “All right. If you really want to know.” Liam nodded for her to continue. “I was called down to witness one of those interrogations. He wanted me there in case the woman he interrogated became seriously injured.”

Patricia nodded as she shifted on the bench. It seemed she’d been right. “She didn’t cooperate,” Abby continued, looking down. “So the Commander took a more aggressive approach.”

Liam pursed his lips, not as hesitant to clarify. “He tortured her.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, looking down. “He did.”

Was that it? Patricia resisted asking that question, or at least not in the questioning tone she was envisioning. She didn’t think Abby would appreciate it. It wasn’t a major deal to her, but Abby was a civilian and therefore, not accustomed to certain realities of war. And despite what politicians often said, torture was utilized by the military, regardless of the current public opinion.

They just didn’t tell anyone.

“I suppose you didn’t agree with his approach,” Liam said quietly. “Understandable.”

She snorted and glanced at him. “Must seem pretty weak, huh? I mean, you’ve probably done that before.”

“It made you uncomfortable,” Liam continued, unabated. “I’d consider that a good thing. Torture isn’t supposed to make you feel good inside. It’s a last resort and even then alternatives should be exhausted.”

“Maybe that’s what’s bothering me,” she mused, swirling her drink as she thought. “I’m not convinced he did that. I got the impression that he’d already determined what he was going to do and the questioning was just a formality.”

The Commander was a man who formed connections, ideas and theories like she did. Knowing that, Patricia didn’t exactly feel that statement was inaccurate. If it were actually _true_ , she didn’t know if she supported his actions then. Torture was a tool, and she believed her and Liam were in agreement on this. To utilize it before exhausting all options was unethical and wrong.

But if the Commander _had_ processed every possible scenario and determined that it was the only, or highest possible means of extracting information, was it wrong to just use it immediately instead of wasting time? “How sure of that are you?” She asked Abby.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s just a feeling I have. But what he did was wrong. Maybe necessary, but wrong.”

Liam put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I don’t think we’re in disagreement over that. It certainly _is_ wrong, but necessity and morality don’t exactly mesh well together sometimes.”

Patricia placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her fist. And _that_ was where she and Liam appeared to have some disagreement. “It depends on your point of view,” she said as they looked at her. “Did it work?”

Abby cocked her head. “Sorry?”

“The interrogation. Did she talk?”

Abby nodded. “Yeah. It took four fingers, but she did eventually.”

Four, huh. The woman must have been extraordinarily resistant. “Then wasn’t it worth it?” She asked.

Abby appeared to see where she was going and her eyes hardened as she answered. “Only if he tried everything possible beforehand. And even then it’s debatable.”

“And what if what he learned is essential to stabilizing Germany or fighting the aliens?” Patricia insisted, motioning with her hand. “Would you possibly risk thousands of lives to keep your conscience clean?”

Abby scowled. “I hate that argument,” she muttered, taking another sip. “There are some things you can’t justify using ‘The Greater Good.’ No one ever asks what is lost in the process. There is always a cost.”

“Sorry, but I think that’s a valid justification in this case,” Patricia defended. “We’re not talking a few hundred soldiers, some secret plans or shadow wars. We’re talking about the future of an entire _country._ No, I don’t think everything can, or should be justified like that, but I believe that one woman’s suffering is worth possibly stabilizing a country.”

“And what if she was lying?” Abby exclaimed harshly, glaring at her. “What if she was just saying that so the pain would stop?”

Liam grunted at that. “While a valid point, after a time you soon learn how to tell a legitimate confession from a fake. Any interrogator worth his position would be able to spot any inconsistencies in the answers and react accordingly. That risk is highest when dealing with enemy spies or double agents.”

“I highly doubt our Commander is inexperienced in this either,” Patricia added. “What do you think? Was she lying?”

The brief fire that had invigorated Abby went out and she slumped slightly. “I don’t think so. Her answer was too specific and the Commander appeared to recognize some of the things she said.” She was silent for a few minutes as she stared off into the distance. “I don’t even know why I was there,” she continued distractedly. “He had to know I wasn’t the best choice.”

Again, the answer was fairly obvious to her, but she resisted making some incredulous remark. Paige wouldn’t have wanted that. “It was a test.” She told her.

Abby raised an eyebrow at her and shifted her direction. “Really?” She asked, the skepticism bitingly clear.

Patricia shrugged. “The Commander isn’t an idiot,” she explained neutrally. “He has access to your psychological profile and knows your preferences and views. I’d be disappointed if he simply wanted you there for medical concerns. I don’t know why he’d do that, but it makes sense from what I know.”

Abby’s eyes widened and filled with…realization? An odd reaction. Liam did something similar and cocked his head at her while pursing his lips. Patricia frowned. It seemed that she missed something fairly important. “You know something?”

Neither of them answered. Hmm. Just based off their now-guarded expressions, she didn’t think she was going to get a straight answer from them. Perhaps now was the time to make her exit. Abby had some issues to sort out and their ideologies were too different at the moment for her to provide much help.

Liam appeared to know what was going on. Perhaps she’d be more open with him. Patricia stood and grabbed the dishes she’d used. “You two appear to have something to talk about. I’ll leave you alone.”

It was quite telling, she mused while walking away, that neither of them made some half-hearted attempt to get her to stay. Or maybe they were realizing that it accomplished nothing to try to stop her. Well, it had been an interesting conversation, regardless. She had a lot to think about.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Training Area_

Bruised, beaten and exhausted, Shawn raised his fists once more. For quite possibly the first time since donning the armor, it actually weighed him down. He was far more sluggish was when they’d started a few hours ago and the constant pummeling he’d received from Carmelita only exuberated that fact.

For her part, Carmelita seemed as energetic as ever. Lightly hopping on the balls of her feet, she slammed a fist into her palm in anticipation, her playful smile had become a lot more terrifying recently. Based on the last few exchanges, it meant she was going to unleash some unblockable flurry. Again.

When she’d suggested this little exercise, he’d accepted mostly as a way to take his mind over killing that man. It had bothered him more than it should and he was grateful for any distraction. However, if he’d known if it would get _this_ intense, he might have reconsidered.

He’d attempted imitating her fighting stance at the beginning, but was really too exhausted to care at this point. He spread his arms out, essentially exposing himself. “You coming or what?” He challenged. It hopefully didn’t sound as tired as he felt.

She shook her head, a light chuckle reaching his ears. “Don’t expose yourself. It never works out.”

She’d been doing that ever since they started. Making some quick criticism before showing him exactly how it was flawed. And _showing_ translated to _beating him up_. Repeatedly. Though to be fair, he’d actually picked up quite a bit, even if he hated it at the moment.

Apparently that was a good enough warning. She charged him and he shifted in place as quickly as possible in his weakened state. Holding his left arm in a defensive posture, he balled his right into a fist, getting ready to swing.

She was almost there… _now_. He swung the balled fist which he estimated would connect with her head. He’d been concerned with hurting her at the beginning and now doubted that it would even phase her. Somehow, she had anticipated his attack and even as his fist moved to collide with her, she grabbed it and jerked down.

He couldn’t stop the momentum and began falling forward. Right into her other waiting fist that slammed into his chin. While he staggered, disoriented and unbalanced, she reached in and hooked her fingers in his collar and lower back, then slammed him to the ground as hard as she could.

The breath rushed out of him and she placed a knee on his chest and pinned his right wrist with her left foot. In a practiced motion, she drew her knife in a reverse grip and placed the tip at his throat.

“Don’t choreograph your attacks,” she admonished while adjusting his crooked mask (How nice of her). “Seriously. Even a child could have predicted that ‘attack.’”

“I might have thought of that had _you_ not given me a concussion,” Shawn groaned as he relaxed his entire body when it was clear he couldn’t force her off. “You pleased with yourself?”

She grinned and pulled the knife and back, then sheathed it. Stepping off him, she grasped his forearm and pulled him up. Still unsteady, he stumbled into her and she more or less caught him.

Peeling the mask off her face, she handed it to him which he grasped weakly. “Hold this.” Then slung his arm around her shoulder and grabbed his wrist. She placed her other arm around his waist. Now he was in a proper supporting position, she began walking towards a bench.

Now, honestly, he _could_ have walked unsupported. But really, he didn’t have many complaints about the situation he was in now. Besides, he could never refuse a beautiful lady, especially since she was helping him.

They reached a bench and she began setting him down. However, he wasn’t _that_ helpless so he removed his arm around her neck and sat down himself and peeled off his own mask. “You _did_ know I didn’t need your help.” He told her as she walked over to her bag.

“Probably,” she called back as she rummaged through it. “But you didn’t try to stop me so I figured you needed it.” She looked up, raising a knowing eyebrow. “That _was_ the reason, yes?”

He winced, trying to stop the rush of blood to his cheeks. “Well, Yeah. But I didn’t think it was wise to refuse. Especially given the past few hours.”

She chuckled and rose, several water bottles in hand. “Very smart. Heads up.” She tossed one of the water bottles. He raised a hand and by some miracle, actually caught it. He stared at the plastic bottle, slightly dumbfounded.

“I can’t believe I caught that.” He marveled as he took a well-deserved drink.

  “I’m not surprised,” Carmelita told him, walking back over and taking a seat right beside him. “You’re pretty quick.”

“As was evidenced by my wonderful performance,” he quipped sarcastically. “You know, when you _want_ to use me as a punching bag, just tell me upfront. Please?”

“Hey, you did pretty well,” she answered cheerfully as she took a drink from her own bottle. “You lasted around…” she checked her watch. “Two hours and thirty-three minutes.”

Shawn eyed her skeptically. “And why do I think you could have ended the fight anytime you wished.”

“Oh, I could have,” he assured him. “But it’s an unofficial rule. Don’t make the final move until the opponent can’t give anything more. You did better than me.”

He sighed. “And how _much_ better did I do?”

“Mine was one hour and fifty-six minutes,” she answered lightly.

Shawn raised an eyebrow. “Huh. That’s actually not bad.”

She punched him in the arm. “See? You learned for your mistakes too, a pretty big reason why you lasted as long.”

Shawn seemed to feel every ache and bruise. “Based on what I feel, I somehow doubt that.”

She shook her head. “Oh no, you still made plenty of mistakes. But at least you made _different_ mistakes.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or a very subtle insult.”

She chuckled. “No, seriously. That’s a good thing. It shows me you’re paying attention.”

He took another drink of water. “Thanks, I guess. Your teaching style is…unorthodox to say the least.”

“Blame my instructor,” she told him, putting her bottle down. “He didn’t really believe in teaching choreographed techniques. Instinct and reflexes are much more important in an actual fight. You can practice a specific move for hours, but it can all be wrecked if your opponent attacks in a completely different way.”

It wasn’t an entirely unreasonable approach. “So that’s all he does?” he questioned, shifting to face her better. “Just beat up students and make comments about their moves?”

“More or less,” She nodded. “Once you could beat him or fight to a standstill, he considered you as good as him. A lot of soldiers never got that far.”

“Did you?”

She smiled at him. “I did. Beat him actually, though I attribute it mostly to an extremely lucky punch that should never have landed.”

“Well, it certainly shows,” he complimented. “Lucky punch or not.”

She set her bottle down. “Thank you. Provided you weren’t too put off with this, would you be interested doing it again.”

“Hmm,” he looked up at the ceiling in thought. “Well, sure. I mean, it can’t get _worse_ than this right.”

Carmelita brushed some strand of hair out of her face and looked at him in amusement. “Are you sure about that?”

He looked down in mock disappointment. “Right. Silly of me to think of that.”

“Certainly,” she agreed. Her features hardened as she grew more serious. “Ok, ready to talk about what was bothering you earlier?”

He blinked. Not quite the turn he’d expected the conversation to take. “You noticed that?”

She gave a small smile. “Of course. You’re a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them. I figured you needed a distraction.”

He winced. “Well, I can safely say you succeeded.”

“I know _that_ ,” she answered. “But you didn’t answer my question?”

He shrugged. “It was just some…deep thinking, I guess. Boundaries of the law, due process, ethics, it’s not really anything important. Just been thinking about it recently.”

She shook her head. “You never really cared about that before. What prompted that line of thought?”

He sighed, looking at her wearily. “You’re just going to persist until I tell you, right?”

She uncharacteristically didn’t smile back at his humorous rhetorical question. “No. Not unless you want to.”

Well, he really didn’t see a reason _not_ to tell her. If there was anyone he was comfortable talking about more serious matters with, it was her. It might be a good idea regardless, a different perspective always helped.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he told her, waving his hand in a circular motion. “I was one of the people who saw the Commander interrogate that operative we captured in France. Very interesting guy, really.”

Carmelita leaned forward. “So what happened? I haven’t heard anything regarding the Commander’s interrogations.”

“Have you heard of EXALT?”

She frowned, resting her chin on her fist. “No.” She answered slowly. “What kind of organization is it?”

“Don’t know for sure,” Shawn admitted. “But based on his answers and gear, I’d guess some sort of intelligence organization.”

“Strange,” she murmured. “I’m familiar with most of the major intelligence and black ops units. Never heard anything about them before.”

“Well, they apparently are interested in Germany and have their eye on XCOM.” Shawn said.

“So did you kill him?” She asked suddenly.

He cocked his head. “Yes…” he answered slowly, appraising her suspiciously. “Guessed that pretty quickly.”

“Deduction,” she answered simply. “There were only two outcomes here. He died or he didn’t, and I doubt you’d be this conflicted if he was still alive.” She straightened up and looked him in the eye. “I’m going to assume this wasn’t just a fit of blind rage.”

Shawn let out a sigh. “No. The Commander gave me the gun and let me make the decision. So I executed him.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” She asked gently.

He scowled. “Oddly enough, no. He deserved to die, I don’t feel bad about that. But I’m not sure _I_ should have been the one to kill him.”

“Why not?”

He hesitated before answering, trying to find the right words. “Look, despite what it may look like sometimes I’m a generally law-abiding guy. I follow the laws and don’t make trouble. It works out fine for me,” he paused. “But the thing is, there’s a process for justice and shooting him didn’t feel… _lawful_ , if that makes sense.”

She nodded, indicating for him to continue. “I considered turning him over,” he continued. “I really did. But I know how the system works over there. Sure, he’d spend the rest of his life in prison…but…” he sighed. “It wasn’t enough for me. Someone like him doesn’t deserve to live, prison or no. It’s selfish. I’m aware of that. I suppose that’s what’s bothering me the most. I put what _I_ wanted before what was right.”

She reached over and took his hand in hers. “You’re a better person than I,” she told him softly. “Doing that wouldn’t even be eventful to me, much less something to agonize over.”

Shawn shrugged. “Right, I know. You did stuff like that all the time. It must seem rather silly to you.”

She shook her head. “Not at all.” She trailed off, looking away. Staring off into nothing, she continued. “I wish I could say something. But I’m not like you. Human life doesn’t have the same meaning it once did for me. I don’t pause to consider what’s right when I’m on operations. I just try to survive and complete my mission.” She sighed deeply.

“But just because I’ve lost my morality doesn’t mean you have too. But I really wouldn’t beat yourself over it. The fault, if any, lies with the Commander. He knows the protocols and laws, if it was illegal I doubt he would have let you have the choice.”

Shawn thought back to the Commander’s unsettling smile and the odd sense of approval he’d felt when he handed the pistol back. “I’m not so sure,” he muttered. “The Commander is brilliant, but I think rules and laws don’t matter to him so much as results.”

She shifted closer to him. “Does that bother you?”

“Somewhat,” he admitted to her. “I mean, we all like to complain about them, but the laws are in place for a reason. If we don’t have _some_ order we’re just vigilantes, imposing what _we_ think is right on everyone else. That kind of thinking is dangerous, at least to me.”

She looked up at him, a faint smile on her lips. “You’re just full of surprises.”

He leaned back in mock offense. “Hey, I can be serious when I want to. But there’s enough issues in the world without me adding my voice.”

“So I see,” she answered. “It’s one of the reasons I like you.”

Shawn could think of several ways to interpret that comment and was certainly not going to risk anything by guessing wrong again. “Well, thank you. I think.”

She rolled her eyes. “I refuse to think you’re so oblivious. I know men can be blind sometimes, but this is ridiculous.”

He gave an awkward cough. “Uh, sorry?”

She sighed and turned fully towards him and took his other hand into her own gauntleted one. “Think _very hard_ about what I said before.” She said, looking into his eyes.

“So you _did_ mean it in that way?”

She cocked her head in confusion. “What are you worried about? Did I say something?”

“No!” he exclaimed emphatically. “Nothing like that, no! I’ve just had bad experiences, well, misreading signs. I don’t really want to do that again.”

“Then let me be crystal clear,” she told him. “I like you a lot. As more than a friend.”

He despised using the word _giddy_ to describe how he was feeling, but there really wasn’t a better word at the moment. A large smile spread across his face. For perhaps the first time, Carmelita looked vulnerable as she awaited his answer. She was actually _nervous._

“Well….” He paused for dramatic effect. “I think you’re in luck. Because I like you too.”

She let out a half chuckle and sigh of relief. “Don’t do your dramatic pause again,” she admonished. “I was almost expecting you to say no.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like an idiot? Who would possibly refuse such a beautiful woman?”

“Flatterer.” She chided, standing up, and he joined her. “I think we should discuss our mutual attraction somewhere _other_ than here.”

“You’re saying this _isn’t_ a romantic spot?” He asked in mock incredulity and grasped her right hand with his left.

“Hmm, maybe not,” she amended. “But I can think of better places.”

With his free arm, he motioned towards the door. “Then let’s go.”

Together, they walked out of the room.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Practice Range_

Mira closed her right hand into a fist and placed her arm behind her back. With her left hand she raised the laser pistol and mentally reacquired the exact positons of each target. _Three, two, one_. She fired a short, bright burst and instantly went to the second target and then directly to the third until half the range was smoking.

She moved her right hand up and stopped the timer. Eleven seconds. Room to improve. As much as she tried, she could never fully control her left hand as good as her right. Even odder since she literally had no feeling in her right.

Ambidexterity was a trait she had strived at for years. Yet no matter how much time she put in, she was never able to achieve it. Had she not dismissed it as a useless emotion, she would probably feel irritated. Fortunate that she didn’t really care. No matter how long it took, she was going to master it even if her body refused to cooperate.

The hot air was uncomfortable, but it was better than the air conditioning biting into her face. The heat reduced the sharp pain into a dull throb. One reason she practiced alone, she dealt with the pain all day and in the Citadel, this was really the only place where she felt…well, decent, at least by her standards. Her sealed armor was her only other solace.

She raised the pistol to fire again. Her goal for today was twenty repetitions per hand. This was her last round. Then she would try to rest, as much as she was able to. Resuming her rigid position, she took aim and began firing.

She lowered the pistol, some smoke rising from the barrel. Ten-point-five. Improvement, but not good enough. At least she hit every target, but she knew more than anyone that even a half-second was the difference between life and death. But with time, she’d overcome this weakness.

Holstering her pistol, she pivoted and began walking out of the room. The door hissed open and a blast of cool air tore into her exposed skin. A few years ago the sheer pain would have made her scream.

Now she just accepted it. It was part of her life now.

The hallways were deserted this time of night. Another reason she came now. Less chance of her being interrupted. Though she found that many people went out of their way to avoid her. If she allowed herself to feel such things she might have felt hurt. But they were right to be wary of her. And afraid.

Intimidation was an interesting side effect of her silence and demeanor. Something she’d noted early on and used to her advantage. She didn’t know how normal people would feel about that, but she frankly didn’t care. Unless it interfered with keeping her soldiers alive, she would continue using her natural intimidation to its fullest potential.

“Ah, there you are!” She turned to see Luke Warner approaching her and frowned.

He was an anomaly to her. Someone who didn’t react to her in a predictable way. It would be almost disconcerting, had she not developed an interest in him. Which was something that worried her. She had sealed herself off for a reason, and the fact that she was starting to form a connection to him was a bad sign.

She’d believed that after a few conversations his curiosity would be sated or he’d be so repulsed that he’d leave her alone. Yet he’d persisted, the stubborn man. She should tell him to stop talking to her. It would only lead to pain for them both. But every time she began to say the words, something stopped her.

As much as it worried her to admit it, she actually _enjoyed_ having someone else to talk to. Even if he didn’t share her views, she’d forgotten what a normal human interaction was like. For the past five years her interpersonal relations had been restricted to strictly professional matters. Something that everyone who’d even slightly known her had respected.

So when Luke had started talking to her so… _openly_ it was surprising. And despite herself, she had developed a growing curiosity about his own past. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried, but unlike most here, his background was only accessible by the Commander’s Internal Council. Something that had raised many red flags in her mind.

But never once had she considered asking him. It someone’s past was that hard to find, it was better to leave it unless it became absolutely necessary. She had no issue with talking about herself, but knew that everyone didn’t possess that trait.

What was most concerning to her was that she was starting to think of him less as a soldier and more as a friend. She’d caught herself idly wondering what he would think about certain topics and issues before reminding herself she didn’t have that luxury. Yet the thoughts didn’t leave her and she didn’t know how to stop them, aside from cutting all ties, which she couldn’t seem to be able to do.

Still, she turned to him. “Yes?” She asked neutrally.

“Just wondering if I missed you,” he explained. “Deployments happen suddenly now.”

He was stalling. But she didn’t have an interest in entertaining his distractions at the moment. Crossing her arms, she apprised him under her hood. “Do you have a reason for speaking to me?”

She expected him to make a lighthearted comment or just easily explain it away. Instead he grew serious. “Yes, I do,” He answered, his tone more subdued. “But…well, I don’t want to get into it right away. Do you mind if I walk with you.”

An opportunity to turn him away. But again, she couldn’t find a reason strong enough for sending him away that wasn’t born of personal concern. “If you wish.” She finally answered and began walking down the hallway, Luke in step beside her.

“You often come down here at this time?” He asked idly as they walked.

“I do.”

He let out a sigh. “I’m really bad at this.”

She glanced at him. “At what?”

“Small talk, filling the silence.”

“Small talk involves two parties,” She answered dismissively. “I see no reason to entertain unnecessary conversation. If you have something to say, just say it.”

A small smile played across his lips. “If you wish,” he took a breath. “Well, I’ve just been thinking recently. You’ve told me a lot about yourself lately, surprising, if I’m being honest. But you’ve never asked for the same.”

She shrugged as they turned a corner. “People’s comfort levels vary. I don’t wish to pry if you feel uncomfortable.”

“Courteous,” he commented. She frowned. That wasn’t _quite_ the word she’d had in mind. It was far too formal. “But I don’t really consider it fair or right for you to always be on the receiving end of questions,” he continued. “So if you want to know something about me, ask away.”

She was good a reading people. Despite his easygoing face, there was a tightness that showed his nervousness. He wasn’t as comfortable as he claimed, but still asked anyway. What had she done to earn his trust to this degree? Still, she wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. But she wasn’t going to abuse his trust. One question. That’s all.

“Very well,” she answered. “Just one question for the moment.”

He looked down at her. “Go ahead.”

“Why are you here?”

He looked forward, silent for a few seconds as they kept walking. “I assume you mean why I joined XCOM?”

“Yes. Someone like you doesn’t just come here without a reason.”

He let out a sigh. “I’d like to say it was the desire to fight for our planet that prompted me to join. Unfortunately, the truth is not as pretty.”

This wasn’t a conversation that should really be held while walking. She noticed a table with chair by the wall and motioned over towards it. After they sat down and she rested her forearms on the table he continued.

“Well, simply put, I’m here serving a prison sentence.” He admitted.

Hmm. Not what she was expecting. Nor did it make much sense. “Perhaps you should provide context.” She suggested.

He winced. “Probably. The short version is that my wife was killed by an idiot teenage boy. I stupidly went after him and returned the favor. I got caught and learned that he was _actually_ the son of a prominent Chinese ambassador. So I got a nice long sentence from that, then one day, someone came and offered me a deal. I could serve in XCOM on probation more or less.”

A new host of questions were opened up to her, but she held off for the moment. “Go on.”

“The only catch was that it’s a death sentence,” he explained. “They implemented a chip in my brain. Explosive, set on a timer. Upon entering XCOM I had about a year to live, now just over half of that remains.”

His words came out strange, in a combination of rushed and halted sentences. Even the shortened version wasn’t easy for him to tell. “I’m sorry about your loss.” She said softly and meant it. Even if she’d said that before, it was worth repeating. Losing a spouse was one of the hardest things anyone could endure. She hoped her death had been relatively painless.

He shrugged. “Appreciated.”

“Why did you go after him?” She asked after a few seconds.

“I was angry,” he let out. “That’s all it was. I know what I _should_ have done, but didn’t have the desire to at the time.”

She allowed herself a brief reflection of her husband, before he was murdered. “I know how you feel. Nothing else matters. You are driven by something unstoppable. The necessities of life don’t seem to matter. Sleep, food, drink, all are secondary to revenge.”

“You lost your husband,” he remembered. “I suppose my story doesn’t really compare to what you went through.”

She shook her head. “I disagree,” she stated flatly. “We both felt the same emotions. We were both driven to avenge their deaths. We both hunted the murderers down and killed them. The only difference was that I was commended for what I did, you were punished.”

“Yeah,” Luke answered half-skeptically. “But you killed a bunch of terrorists. I killed a kid. A very stupid and malicious kid, but one nonetheless. There is a difference.”

She folded her hands and looked him in the eye. “I’m not a bastion of morality, so take this however you wish, but I believe you did nothing wrong.”

“You don’t need to make me feel better,” Luke admonished kindly. “I’ve come to terms with my fate a long time ago. You might not consider it wrong, but I do. I broke the law and will willingly serve my sentence.”

Surrender was a concept foreign to her. Had she been in his position she would have fought to the last breath before just…laying down and accepting her fate. If the sentence had been less, she might have understood his reasoning a bit better. But he was walking around with a bomb in his head like it was nothing. It didn’t make sense how he could just…accept his fate.

“Regardless of what you think,” she said. “Your punishment is ridiculous. You don’t deserve that, regardless of what you say.”

He gave a sad smile. “Perhaps not. But I do know that if Earth is going to war, I’d rather die fighting for my planet with people like you rather than wait in a jail cell, cowering in fear.”

She wasn’t impressed easily, but it took a certain level of bravery to know that taking this option would kill you, one way or another, and still go forward for the sake of the planet. _That_ was the definition of selflessness. In the unlikely event she would have found herself in that position, she’d have done the same. But the majority of people wouldn’t.

“You’re brave,” She told him. “Even if I don’t agree with you giving up, that deserves to be commended.”

“Oh, I haven’t given up quite yet,” he told her, leaning forward. “The Commander actually told me he’d look into getting the chip removed.”

She nodded. Another point for the Commander. Good for him for not accepting the ludicrous sentence imposed on Luke. “And are you planning too?”

He pursed his lips. “Unfortunately, it’s complicated. Shen _believes_ that he could extract it eventually. But it’s implanted in a way where there’s a good chance I’ll die regardless.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve got time left and the Germany situation needs to be resolved but…I don’t know. If I’m going to die, I want it to be on the battlefield, not in surgery.”

She could understand that. She was about to say something when he reached in his pocket and pulled out a black cylinder. Like a detonator. “Shen did discover something interesting about the chip though,” Luke continued, looking at the cylinder. “It’s highly explosive and can be synched to a detonator.”

She let out a breath. “Just _how_ explosive?”

“Shen said something around a ten foot radius,” Luke answered. “Though he might have been off.”

“And you decided to possibly make yourself a suicide bomber for…what exactly?” Mira demanded.

“Mostly a contingency in case I ever get cut off or are severely wounded or captured,” Luke explained. “If I’m going to die, I want to take out as many aliens as possible.”

“What happens if you can’t do that?” She asked. “This assumes you’ll still be in a state to move your arms.”

Oddly enough, he smiled. “Luckily enough, I found a solution to that.” He reached over and took one of her hands and placed the detonator in it. She stared at it, for once dumbfounded.

She looked at him. “Why?”

“Because if I’m ever in that position, you’re the only one I trust to do what’s necessary.” He answered seriously. “People generally don’t respond well to voluntary martyrdom. But you’re a practical woman who can at least see the tactical benefit to taking out a few aliens even if you personally feel otherwise.”

She closed her fist around the detonator, marveling at how smooth it was. The amount of trust he was putting into her was unsettling. No one had done anything even close to this.

“You would trust me with this?” She asked, her uncertainty sounding foreign even to her.

He gave a single nod. “I do.”

“You do know I won’t always be deployed with you?” She checked.

He smiled. “Oh, I’m aware, I’ll just have Shen make me another one for myself. That one’s yours.”

She just sat there. Pondering it for a few minutes, not entirely sure what or how she should handle this. She finally just admitted it. “I don’t know what to say.”

Luke stood. “Don’t question yourself,” he told her. “I know what I’m doing and I know I made a good choice.” She was still absorbed in her thoughts. “I’ll let you go now. I’m glad we talked, Mira. It was…good…for me.”

“I am too,” she responded automatically as he walked away. “I am too…”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

The Commander glanced over at the beeping intercom and pressed the answer button. “Bradford?”

_“Yes, Commander. The Council wishes to speak with you.”_

He frowned. That wasn’t good. Several possible reasons ran through his mind and most of them bad. Had he misjudged Wernher? Had he gone to the Council anyway? So far he’d kept his word and his TV station hadn’t focused on the protests. No…that was unlikely. But if so, he might have to follow through on his threat.

“Understood, Bradford,” he answered. “I’ll speak to them.”

Ending the call, he stood and faced the monitor. Regardless of the reasons, he didn’t want to speak to anyone in the Council or United Nations until he knew who was involved in the Germany situation. Unfortunately, he’d have to treat all of them as suspects for the moment, which they likely wouldn’t take kindly too.”

The screen flashed and the image of the silhouetted male Speaker appeared. Arms resting on the blue tinted table with one hand over the other. Good. The reasonable Speaker, the chances of this proceeding smoothly had just gone up. But despite his apparent neutrality, he could be working against him as well. He didn’t know.

 _“Commander,”_ he greeted. _“The Council is pleased that your recent…operation…in France was a success.”_

The Commander inclined his head in greeting. “Speaker, a pleasure. I appreciate that, what happened there was a tragedy.”

 _“The Council agrees,”_ he responded. _“We are also aware you captured an operative suspected of carrying out the attack.”_

Hmm. This could get tricky very fast. “Yes. We apprehended a suspect.”

 _“The Council is…pleased…with your…efficiency.”_ He answered as the blue light flickered. _“The Council would request that you turn him over to us after you have finished…questioning….him.”_

Careful not to let anything show on his face, the Commander thought furiously for a story that they would believe. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he told him while shaking his head in an imitation of sorrow. “The operative died recently from wounds sustained in the battle. We were only able to extract a minimum amount of information.”

 _“Unfortunate,”_ the Speaker almost seemed to sigh. _“But that is the reality sometimes. Did you learn anything before he expired?”_

What to reveal? Certainly not EXALT, not until he knew more. Perhaps he could probe a little to see the response. “He appeared to answer to some sort of splinter group aligned with the United Nations,” he answered, switching up the stories a bit. “The motivations of him and his group are unclear.”

The Speaker was silent for a few moments. _“That is…troubling. The Council will have to look into this matter immediately. I will speak to the Council about how to eliminate this…obstruction…to your efforts.”_

And it was statements like that which made him doubt the man was working against him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but he seemed a rare individual that didn’t have an agenda for him. For or against.

“I hope so,” the Commander answered sincerely. “We need to be united against this alien threat.”

_“I agree.”_

Interesting how he answered personally and not with “we” or “The Council.” Perhaps he was weary of all the infighting as well. “I presume you wished to speak to me about something besides the recent operation?” he asked.

 _“Yes,”_ The Speaker pressed an unseen button on the table and an image appeared on the screen. A bald man, probably around the age of forty, with bright brown eyes and a smiling face. A cheerful individual from the looks of it.

 _“This is Peter Van Doorn,”_ The Speaker explained. _“General of the Army of NATO.”_

The Commander raised an eyebrow. Interesting. The name wasn’t unfamiliar to him, Van Doorn had been one of the more well-respected officers during the War on Terror, even if he normally didn’t involve NATO directly. The few time he had gotten involved were decisive victories. To him, the man did seem competent, at least during the few times he’d actually utilized his army. A shame that he was allied with the UN.

“I’m aware of the man.” He informed the Speaker. “Has something happened?”

 _“Approximately one hour ago General Van Doorn was en route to an undisclosed location when his distress signal was activated,”_ The Speaker explained. _“We do not know the status of the General, or his soldiers.”_ The Speaker leaned forward slightly. _“Losing a prominent military figure to the aliens would damage our efforts as well as deliver a blow to morale. Thus, the Council requests that you send a rescue operation for Peter Van Doorn and ensure his safety.”_

This could be useful, provided it wasn’t a trap. But if Van Doorn actually _was_ in trouble, rescuing him would only improve his standing with the Council, who’d surely remember it if he ever wanted to start a legal battle against those allied against him.

“Send me the location,” he told the Speaker. “I’ll deploy a squad right away.”

The Speaker nodded. _“The Council appreciates your quick…response. Everything will be sent to your Central Officer. Good luck, Commander.”_

“Appreciated.”

_“We will be watching.”_

The Speaker cut the feed and the screen went black. The Commander wasted no time in pulling up the list of soldiers. He didn’t have any time to waste. This was a time sensitive mission if there ever was one and acting too late would spell doom for the general. But if it _was_ a trap he was going to make sure his team was prepared.

He opened a line to Bradford. “Central, prepare a skyranger. I’m assembling a squad now.”

_“On it. I just received coordinates. What’s going on?”_

“A mission from the Council. We’re going to extract Peter Van Doorn.”

_“The General of NATO’s Army?”_

“The very same. And we need to act fast.”

_“Could it be a trap?”_

“Possibly. We’ll just have to be ready.”

_“Will do, Central out.”_

The Commander ended the call, grabbed his tablet and exited the room briskly, forming the squad as he went. If nothing else, the gratitude of Van Doorn might prove useful someday if he ever had to move against the United Nations.

 

 

 


	21. The General

 

_Outskirts of Switzerland_

The cover of darkness was an advantage in theory. One that was lost when a conscious choice was made to be as obvious as possible.

Peter Van Doorn glanced out the windshield into the night sky, the bright headlights of all the cars around him providing a decent illumination of the highway. If the United Nations was _actually_ interested in security, they wouldn’t have assigned a thirty man escort to him. The men and woman who he served had their hearts in the right place, but this was essentially painting a target on him, not to mention those assigned to protect him.

He’d tried filing a protest, but had been overruled. His safety was “Too important,” to risk. Fortunate that he had a solution to the issue. In the event that they _were_ attacked, the casualties would be much lower. At least, that was the goal.

He blinked as a truck unexpectedly swerved in front of him and he slowed down to compensate. Idiot drivers knew no borders, it seemed. He sighed and kept on going. There was a surprising amount of traffic this time of night, but that was just as well. Easier to blend in.

In some ways, he was almost glad that the UN had forced this escort on him. Driving had given him an opportunity to think and reflect. His days had recently been torn between tangling with the UN for answers and trying to deal with the growing list of towns whose populations had disappeared.

He wouldn’t lie to himself. He was irritated with the United Nations at the moment. By this point everyone in NATO command knew that the abductions were due to an alien incursion. When he’d first made the discover, he’d gone directly to President of the UN asking to lead the defense.

In a rather shocking and surprising dismissal, the President had said that they were already aware of the situation and were taking steps to deal with it. _That_ answer had not gone over well with the rest of NATO command. So if not them, than who?

He’d received reports of an armed force investigating the abduction areas and suspected alien activity zones. They appeared to be wielding advanced technology and as far as he could tell, answered to no specific nation. But even if the UN _did_ have a secret alien task force, there was still no reason to refuse to keep NATO in the loop.

A few days ago, a man by the name Ali Ennor had requested that he come to the headquarters in Switzerland to discuss military action against the aliens. So it seemed they had changed their minds. Honestly, he was more put off by the lack of clear answers and secrecy surrounding these events than the refusal itself. The UN leadership wasn’t stupid, it there was someone more qualified to lead, he would willingly step aside. But refusing to answer any questions only caused suspicion and distrust.

He glanced over at the man sitting beside him, focused on a laptop augmented with advanced scanning software and antennas. “Anything new?”

Private Glenn Friedlein, or more often just “Private Friendly,” didn’t looked up. “Nein,” he muttered, not looking up. Van Doorn glanced over again. Friendly could, and usually spoke very good English, but the German only reverted to his native tongue when he was intently concerned.

“[What are you expecting?]” He asked back in German.

“[Anything,]” he responded wearily. “[If there was ever a time to strike at you, it would be now.]”

He sighed at that. It was slightly disturbing how everyone regarded him as some sort of legend and made him out to be such an important figure. He’d earned his position, he didn’t dispute that. But he’d worked with men and woman who were just as capable as he was. They didn’t have nearly as much field experience, but in terms of raw talent, he wasn’t unique. “[Come on Friendly. I’m not any more or less valuable than the rest of the senior staff.]”

“[You may think so,]” he answered, finally looking up. “[But if that were true, why would you be asked out of all of them?]”

Friendly motioned to the highway. “[You should probably keep up.]”

Van Doorn looked out and realized that the “official” military escort was much farther ahead than him. Which really wasn’t an issue, but the brass would throw a fit if he was spotted outside the vehicle they’d specifically assigned him.

In fact, the majority of his escort were in regular cars driving on the road. His hope was that if there _was_ an attack, the aggressors would target the obvious convoy and no one else. It was the only way he could see to make sure the majority of people were safe. The trick was to stay close enough to the convoy to avoid suspicion, but far enough away so he’d be safe from any attack.

“[Do you think they’ll listen this time?]” Friendly asked suddenly as he typed on his laptop.

Van Doorn pursed his lips. “[I hope so. I don’t think they have many other options.]”

Friendly opened his mouth to answer when the bridge they were about to drive up exploded. His instincts and training kicked in. He raised his wrist radio to his mouth. “Code Red! Disembark and form a perimeter. Redirect the civilians as quickly as possible!”

He heard a chorus of acknowledgement from his earpiece and grabbed his Kevlar helm and slammed on the breaks as multiple small crashes happened on the highway.

Friendly slammed his fist onto his laptop. “[There was _nothing_!]” He yelled in a brief moment of despair. “[I didn’t detect _anything._ ]”

Van Doorn grabbed his rifle and opened the door. He put a hand on the distraught man to shake him out of his state. “Worry about that later,” he reassured him, reverting to English. “We have to get as many people out of here and survive first. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, sir.” Friendly nodded once, also reverting to English.

People were screaming as Van Doorn got out of the car. He looked up as _something_ streaked across the sky with a piercing hum. He blinked. It wasn’t often he was surprised, but he could swear that he’d just seen a UFO.

Most of his NATO escort were on the streets now, ordering people to stay down and rushing out to redirect civilian traffic. Some of his escort had driven cars up to the edge where the bridge had been broken to provide some cover. Most of the activity seemed to be there.

Friendly pointed toward the sky. “Look!”

No doubt about it. It was a UFO. Not quite a perfect circle, but pretty damn close. The ship streaked to the other side of the destroyed bridge and landed. He could guess that aliens would soon be coming.

He waved Friendly over and pointed to where most of the soldiers were converging. “Come on!” They dashed over to the edge of the burning bridge as civilians dashed away from the carnage. Some had even managed to turn their cars around and started speeding back. Good, the fewer here the better.

The NATO soldiers saluted him as he dashed up. “General,” Sergeant Boan greeted. “We’re awaiting your orders.”

“Status of the convoy?” he asked while trying to get a glimpse of the burning mess of steel and rubber below.

“Assumed dead,” Boan replied, shaking his head. “We can send out a search party if you want.”

He bowed his head in respect for the fallen. “Negative. I have a feeling we’re going to have company.” The soldiers glanced over to the UFO landed on the other side.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” one of the soldiers muttered fearfully.

“Cut out that talk!” he ordered sharply. “They can die just as easily as any human.”

He hoped, anyway.

“We should retreat,” Friendly told him. “We have time and a clear path back.”

“Probably best,” Van Doorn agreed. “Do we have enough cars that aren’t trapped?”

“I assume the civilians would have left their keys,” Boan suggested. “We can utilize the abandoned cars.”

“Let’s do that,” he nodded. “No-“

He paused as another UFO roared overhead and set down on the highway behind them.

They were trapped.

He did a quick head count. About twenty soldiers remained. He was now less concerned with winning this battle as much as surviving it. “Plan B.” he said. He turned to Boan. “Send out the distress signal. Hopefully the UN will send someone.” He turned to the private. “Friendly! Take six soldiers and set up against the UFO on the highway.”

“Yes, sir!” Friendly acknowledged, then pointed at several soldiers. “All of you! Come with me!” The soldiers followed Friendly as Van Doorn turned back to Boan.

“Set up along the edge,” he ordered. “We cannot give up the high ground.”

“On it!” Boan responded.

Van Doorn pointed at three more soldiers. “Set up in the middle. Be ready to assist either side.”

“Yes, General!” They saluted and rushed off.

“We’ve got a visual!” One soldier shouted and Van Doorn rushed over to the edge to see several little creatures coming out of the UFO. Pale and spindly, they appeared to be the size of a small malnourished child. Their enlarged heads and mouthless faces only unsettled him further.

“Fire at will!” He ordered, raising his rifle.

The sound of automatic fire filled the ruined highway as the aliens converged on their position. The battle was just beginning and unless they received reinforcements, it would end very soon.

_Skyranger, En route to the Distress Signal_

Despite the gravity of the situation, Patricia was unreasonably amused that the silent sniper had actually left the smiley face Shawn had drawn on his helmet. Maybe he just had an odd sense of humor. Regardless, it felt out of place as they tore across the sky.

No one was finding humor anywhere else though. Mira Vauner sat beside her, silent as usual. She’d also been designated Squad Overseer, which told Patricia that this was a mission where the only objective was to succeed, whatever the cost. She might not fully like the woman, but if there was anyone fit to command a high-profile mission, it was her.

Well…Patricia felt she would also be included in that category, but Mira _did_ have more experience. Abby sat to her right, her medical gear, med-kit and emergency kit attached to her belt and strapped to her armor.

Carma Hoyle sat directly across from her. The woman was said to be a capable soldier, not exceptional by any means, but competent and that was sometimes more valuable. She wasn’t a rookie anymore either, her recent promotion to the Assault specialization was proof of that. She’d been fiddling with her laser shotgun since they’d boarded, still not completely used to it.

The only one who could even slightly be considered a newcomer was Yousef Li, the Japanese soldier who’d been part of the CRF, Japan’s most prominent special forces unit. He’d been relatively quiet throughout the ride, but then again, all of them had.

The deployment had been ordered with a sense of urgency she hadn’t experienced in XCOM for a long time. The familiar vibration on her wristband had been accompanied by a verbal reminder over the loudspeaker indicating the seriousness of the situation. She’d wasted no time and had barely arrived in the hanger when Fallen Sky had walked out and ordered them to load up.

She expected that the full briefing would come within a few minutes but had entertained herself in the meantime by trying to figure it out herself. This was clearly time sensitive, hence the increased urgency and speed of deployment. So that ruled out an abduction and UFO assault based on previous experience.

So what was left? Perhaps an extraction of some kind? She suspected that the Council was involved with this, though her circumstantial evidence wasn’t much. For one, four out of the six were some of the best XCOM had, one was competent and the final one could only be considered new if you went by alien encounters.

Furthermore, she’d noticed that the sniper always tended to accompany them when an important mission was taking place. Zhang’s extraction, the France mission…something didn’t add up with him and for once she didn’t have a decent theory. Then again, it wasn’t a topic she’d really been concerned with lately

She did like the name Liam had muttered jokingly once. “The Silence.” Somewhat cliché, but it fit. If he didn’t give a name, it was inevitable that someone else would. Besides, calling him “the sniper” was getting old. Oddly enough, Abby probably had a better idea of him than she did, since Patricia knew that they’d spoken. Well, probably just Abby had been doing the speaking, but it was more than anyone else.

Back to their actual mission, there were several more clues that indicated that this was a rescue/extraction mission. First, Abby was coming, possibly for more experience- _or_ in case the target in question was wounded. And as she had noted earlier, Mira was involved and her methods of putting the mission before everything else would be essential in a life-or-death situation.

Whatever the case, she was expecting a difficult mission.

_“This is Fallen Sky to Squad Overseer Vauner,”_ the pilot said, interrupting her train of thought. She cleared her mind and focused on Fallen Sky. _“We’re about twenty minutes from the LZ. Patching the Commander in now.”_

_“This is the Commander to Seahawk Team,”_ The Commander’s familiar voice greeted. _“You’re being deployed to perform an extraction op at the request of the Council._ ” So she’d been right. A smile spread across her face under her helmet. _“Your target: NATO General Peter Van Doorn.”_

She frowned, trying to recall the name. She was certain that she’d heard it before but she hadn’t gone out of her way to become familiar with NATO and their command structure. Abby, however, cocked her head at that. “Is this the same Van Doorn that-“

_“Retook Syria from the Caliphate? Yes, the very same.”_

Ah. _Now_ she remembered why she recognized the name. The Commander had been credited for winning the war on the Caliphate, but one of the major reasons he’d been able to defeat them was because of the so-called “Battle of Syria.”

In the final days of the war, the Caliphate had the capital of Syria and begun imposing their law on the populace. It was unique in that it was the only country that the Caliphate had been able to essentially capture. Sure, they’d conquered many small towns and villages in the Middle East and performed acts of terror across the world, but conquering a country had eluded them. And that achievement prompted the United Nations to actually intervene.

The Army of NATO, under the commander of Peter Van Doorn had waged a long and grueling siege on the city of Damascus. Despite the length of the campaign, the General had earned the respect of many military and world leaders for the way he waged it. Civilians, family members of the Caliphate and surrendered soldiers were off-limits, captured soldiers were treated well and collateral damage was kept to a minimum. In retrospect, he was the exact opposite of the Commander.

The UN had of course touted his eventual victory as proof that they didn’t need to stoop to the Commander’s level to win the war. As much as Patricia wanted to believe that nice story, she was skeptical of its validity.

The reason being that the Commander had not ignored Damascus and waged his own, much smaller, war as well as his regular strikes on the Caliphate. Depending on who you talked to, the Commander had been just as instrumental in Damascus’s fall as Van Doorn, as he’d provided crucial information to the General, allowing him to take the city as well as eliminating key personnel. Some rumors also had it that the Commander and Van Doorn had collaborated in taking the city, though she doubted that was true.

The point was that Peter Van Doorn was not solely responsible for the liberation of Syria. Crucial, yes, but she considered it wrong to ignore the Commander’s contribution, no matter how much some despised him.

Well, if Peter Van Doorn was in trouble, then it was no wonder they wanted XCOM to retrieve him. A man like that couldn’t just be replaced. A shame that he was with NATO, XCOM could use a tactician like him, if only to make it easier for the Commander.

“Do we know why the distress beacon was activated?” Mira asked.

_“No. Only that contact was lost and the beacon was activated.”_

“Should we expect aliens then?”

_“Possibly. XCOM Intelligence has determined another party may be in play. They identify as EXALT and as far as we know, are unaffiliated with the aliens.”_

“Understood,” Mira answered. “What’s the priority for the General? Focus on him or him and any surviving soldiers?”

_“The General is your priority. Secure the area for the soldiers if possible, but Van Doorn is your priority.”_

“Copy that.”

_“You will be updated if anything else is learned. Good luck. Citadel Command, out.”_

The sound clicked off and Abby leaned back. “Van Doorn,” she mused, in a tone that suggested she was smiling underneath. “I always wanted to meet him.”

“Yeah, well you can ask for an autograph _after_ we rescue him,” Patricia commented, folding her hands together. “The last thing he needs now is to be pestered by an overeager fan.”

“Can Generals _have_ fans?” Carma asked with a chuckle.

From the way Abby’s body slightly pulled back at that comment suggested that she was offended. It was actually slightly amusing. “Why not? I respect what he’s done and think he’s a decent human being. Is that an issue?”

“You have strange tastes,” Carma noted fiddling with her shotgun. “I thought you were a doctor.”

Abby crossed her arms. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Carma shrugged. “It just seems an unusual interest.”

“I find politics interesting,” she defended. “Is that strange.”

“Yes.” Yousef Li answered.

Carma nodded in agreement. “I concur. There’s probably something wrong with you.”

Patricia snorted in her helmet. Politics may dictate countries, but she’d learned long ago not to get anywhere near them. It was one reason she’d never really attempted to rise any higher in the ranks. Sooner or later she was going to have to enter the political side of the military and she had no desire to screw her career up because she hurt some poor general’s feelings.

The Silence started making motions with his hands rapidly. Abby nodded. “I agree.”

Patricia looked at her. “You understand that?”

“Sign language?” She asked to clarify. “Yes, I do.”

Well _that_ was interesting. Unfortunate she couldn’t understand it, otherwise she might be able to get _something_ out of him. She was about to ask what he signed when Fallen Sky interrupted them.

_“This is Fallen Sky to Seahawk Team. We’re flying into a massive firefight here. It appears the General is putting up a hell of a fight.”_

“What are we looking at?” Mira demanded.

_“Two UFO’s, small ones at least. Landed at each point of the highway, effectively trapping the General and his soldiers.”_

“How close can you get us?”

_“That depends. How comfortable are you deploying on top of a UFO?”_

“If you can get us there, we can deploy,” Mira told him quietly.

_“Roger that. Be ready in thirty.”_

“Acknowledged.” Mira stood up and the rest of them followed suit. Patricia grabbed her grappling hook preemptively since she suspected they wouldn’t have much time to deploy.

“When we land on top, don’t move until I give orders.” Mira instructed them as the ramp opened and the wind howled around them. The sound of gunfire could be heard below.

“Understood!” They all shouted.

“Deploy!” She ordered and charged off the ramp as the ropes deployed from the skyranger. In her customary free-form style. The Silence followed her lead, and the rest of them secured themselves in a matter of seconds and dropped down onto the alien ship.

Patricia hit the metal with a hardly a sound. It felt…unstable…under her boots. Almost like dirt in that it seemed to give a little under her weight. It didn’t feel like metal at all. She surveyed at the firefight between the aliens and NATO

The soldiers were doing their best to keep them from advancing, but the aliens weren’t deterred, even though they appeared to have suffered some casualties, based on several thin men and sectoid corpses. However, the three remaining soldiers would soon be overrun.

“Carma, Li, Abby, on my order, deploy down and take out the advancing alien force.” Mira ordered, readying her rifle. “Patricia, lay down suppressive fire and follow suit. Sniper, find a good vantage point and fire at will.”

The Silence motioned at the ship with his sniper rifle. “No,” Mira shook her head. “”I’m going to blow this ship up.”

“I don’t spot any outsiders,” Patricia noted worriedly, scanning the battlefield, autolaser primed. “They might still be in the ship.”

“Then they’ll die.” Mira stated. “Go now!”

As Seahawk Team began scaling down the UFO Patricia went to the edge and after taking a firm stance, lowered her weapon on the unsuspecting aliens. Five thin men, four sectoids. Now would be the perfect time for some quippy one-liner.

But she’d never really had that gift. Alien corpses would have to do.

Red bolts spit from her cannon, tearing into the flanked alien force, killing three outright. She swept back and forth a few times as they rushed for cover, now taking fire from two sides. The thin men hissed and began training their weapons on her.

Her clip ran out of juice. Time to find cover. Abby and Li were laying down beams of laser fire, giving her some precious seconds to join them. The alien ship was surprisingly easy to scale down and she made it in less than ten seconds.

The sectoids divided their fire between XCOM and NATO, luckily not employing psionics at the moment. “Smoke in front of the entrance!” Mira shouted and she pulled her rocket launcher and took a knee. “Patricia, open the ship!”

The UFO entrance was shielded by the shimmering screen. Patricia had no idea how to open it but dashed over there anyway. As smoke began obscuring her, she hesitated, then quickly jabbed the screen which receded like a popped bubble.

Revealing two outsiders standing in the center of the ship.

Unafraid, they turned their heads slowly to her and raised their weapons. The alien computers around them provided cover should they choose it, but from their casual stances and confidant appraisal, they didn’t seem to need it.

“Target locked!” She turned to see Mira on one knee, rocket launcher raised and resting on her shoulder. “Targeting the power source.” With a hiss the rocket shot out and sped towards the glowing green column. The outsiders realized the danger but it was too late and the rocket collided.

The resulting explosion shook the ground, almost throwing her to the pavement, when she attempted to look back inside, the UFO was littered with strips of metal, ash and fuel. Fires were spread throughout the UFO, mostly concentrated around the back. Perhaps the engi-

A second explosion blew out the back of the UFO and she stepped back as the metal creaked and tore as the unsupported roof of the UFO slowly bent toward the ground. Green residue littered the remains of the UFO and smoke and ash choked the air.

Well, note to self. Check fire in UFOs. She turned to see Mira joining in the attack. The red beams tearing apart cover and slicing aliens into pieces. She focused fire at a sectoid cowering behind a car. Her laser bursts warped the metal and the car started smoking.

Realizing the danger, the sectoid chittered angrily and began dashing off.

Right into the line of fire from the NATO soldiers. The conventional bullets ripped through it’s flesh and it fell to the ground with s shriek. Two thin men and one sectoid remained.

One of the thin men thrust his head forward and spat a green blob at Li who ducked prematurely, but it didn’t matter as a cloud of green noxious gas exploded around him.

“Gah!” he yelled, and coughed. “I think..it..poisoned me!”

“Stay _still_!” Abby ordered as she began making her way toward Li.

“Covering fire!” Mira ordered as she pointed at the thin men. “Priority targets! Sniper, I want that sectoid taken care of!”

Patricia resisted the urge to look around as she fired several bursts towards the acid shooting thin man. Where _had_ he gone? She looked over to see Abby pulling Li out of the toxic gas. Or more likely acid. The paint had been stripped form his armor and she could see several visible cracks. While Abby tended to him, Patricia paused to reload her weapon.

Two long streaks of crackling red light rained down from the top of a semi-truck. One struck the head of the thin man she was targeting, the other eviscerated the sectoid. She glanced up to see the Silence laying on his stomach gazing down the sights of his weapon.

“Carma, close the gap!” Mira ordered and the woman charged the final thin man while the rest of them ensured he didn’t have a chance to fire. Carma slid in front of the hood of a car, raised her weapon and let loose multiple streaks of light that shredded the thin man. The dismembered body collapsed, poison spewing from the corpse.

Li was back on his feet, though clearly not feeling as well.

“You good?” Mira asked.

He gave a brief nod. “Yes, Overseer!”

“Reload and move forward!” She ordered. “Sniper, hold position.”

Patricia complied and they moved forward, weapons raised. The NATO soldiers lowered their weapons at their approach. “Hey! Friendlies over here!” One called as he dashed up to them.

Mira slowed and raised a fist for them to hold behind her. “State your name.” She ordered the soldier, her voice harshened by the vocoder.

The man seemed slightly taken aback but complied. “Private Glenn Friedlein, NATO. You’re the team to get Van Doorn, right?”

“We are.” Mira affirmed.

The private pointed further down the highway. “He’s coordinating the defense down at the edge. We formed a line there after those _freaks_ hit the bridge.”

“What’s your status?”

“I’m down five soldiers and I don’t know how Van Doorn is faring,” he answered, letting some exhaustion seep into his voice. “Look, you’re clearly better equipped than us. We’ll hold this area and you go get the General.”

Mira nodded and motioned the rest of the squad forward. “Come on!”

The remaining NATO soldiers took defensive positions, weapons raised in case the aliens sent more reinforcements.

* * *

 

The man to his right screamed as a green bolt slammed into his face, killing him instantly. Van Doorn looked to the right to see several of those….things that looked human making their way through the wreckage.

“Hostiles on the right!” He warned, raising his rifle. “Suppress the greys on the left, split fire on the lookalikes!” He fired and the bullets actually tore into one which collapsed to the ground. Some sort of green smoke leaked from the corpse, but he didn’t care about that at the moment. The other two aliens… _hissed_ …at him and dashed into cover.

Excellent. He just needed to hold their advance. He took a risk and tried looking to the other side of the smoking bridge where the UFO sat, emitting a peculiar hum in between the sound of ballistic fire. The shimmering shield that he assumed was one of the…doors? Opened up and five more aliens walked out.

Two more of the spindly gray things and one of the human lookalikes. He frowned at the last two, then ducked as green bolts flew past his head. He wished he had binoculars of some kind. The last two aliens that had come out looked odd. They were about the same size as the lookalikes, but appeared to be wearing some kind of orange…armor?”

He stood up and laid down some suppression fire at the two lookalikes. “Grenade their cover! Right side!” He ordered.

“Yes, sir!” The soldier on the far right tossed a grenade in that area that landed right under a car leaking fuel. The aliens hissed and leapt away with inhuman agility as the car exploded in a brilliant fireball.

“Exposed targets!” Van Doorn yelled. “Hailstorm that area!”

Hailstorm was the tactic of using indiscriminate sweeping fire on a particular area. Three soldiers executing the tactics would annihilate anything standing out in the open. And these aliens weren’t going to be exposed for long.

But even their enhanced reflexes didn’t save the aliens from the hail of bullets. They weren’t killing shots, but their bodies jerked as the lead tore into their arms, legs and torso.

“Tighten the field!” He ordered as the weakened aliens collapsed to the ground, struggling to rise. Only a few seconds more of sustained fire sufficiently executed the aliens who started leaking that green gas.

He let out a whoop. “Come on!” He shouted at Sergeant Boan who was focusing on the three grays cowering behind various burning vehicles. “Not fair if I have all the fun!”

He allowed a smile. Things were going much better than he’d expected. The battle wasn’t over, but he might be able to pull through. He quickly appraised his status. Four soldiers had died so far which brought him down to ten, not including Friendly’s group. Speaking of which.

The ground shook and he blinked in amazement as the UFO blocking the highway went up in a brilliant explosion. How the hell had Friendly…no, not _just_ Friendly. They were still fighting aliens, but red beams were also added to the mix. It didn’t _look_ like they were attacking, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“General, more are coming!” One soldier yelled as he reloaded. “It’s-“He was abruptly cut off as a bolt of green energy slammed into his face. Van Doorn looked around frantically, not seeing anyone.

“Sniper!” he called. “Get down!” Another bolt barely missed his head, but he risked peeking over to see the orange clad aliens walking calmly through the ruins of the bridge. He appeared to be wrong. It was more like some sort of crystal than armor. Worse, it appeared to actually be _part_ of the alien.

And just like that, things were taking a turn for the worse.

“Fall back from the edge!” He ordered as another soldier was executed by the sniper. “Set up watches on the edges.”

Ducking and weaving as bolts of fire barely missed him, Van Doorn hoped those were his reinforcements he’d seen.

Otherwise this battle would soon be over.

* * *

 

Patricia hopped over a piece of rubble as the squad charged toward Van Doorn’s position. The screams of dying soldiers echoed over and she gritted her teeth and kept going faster.

“They’re coming to us.” Abby noted and Patricia saw she was right, thought it looked less like they were coming to them and more like they were retreating. One of the men wearing a more ornamented military vest and Kevlar helm noticed them and waved them over.

“You that ops team? Get over here!” A bolt of plasma that seemed to come from nowhere hit the ground a few feet away. “Watch for the sniper!” he warned.

“Commander, we’ve made contact with General Van Doorn,” Mira said as they all warily made their way forward and integrated with the NATO soldiers.

_“Can you extract him?”_

“Negative. We’re under sniper fire.”

The soldier started firing as two sectoids climbed up the edge of the broken bridge and rushed to cover. Patricia added her weapon to the mix, the bursts of laser fire blowing the thin wooden boxes the sectoids hid behind to splinters. The soldiers looked at her in amazement, some with their mouths open.

She motioned at the two sectoids. “Focus!” She yelled as Abby and Li started firing their weapons. A beam from far behind her struck one sectoid in the head. About time he started making himself useful.

She dashed up by Van Doorn where Mira was crouching beside him.

“Thank God you’re here,” Van Doorn told them as more sectoids started crawling up. “If you didn’t show up this would probably be a lot worse.”

“Don’t get to excited yet,” Mira warned. “We’re not going anywhere until that sniper is taken care of.”

“I assume you have a plan?” He asked as he fired his weapon at one of the sectoids.

“We’ve got our own sniper,” Mira answered. “We should-“

“Outsiders!” Carma yelled and all of them peeked around cover to see two of the outsiders leap up from the destroyed bridge to the contested highway.

“You’ve fought these before?” Van Doorn asked.

“Sad to say so,” Patricia muttered as she aimed her weapon at the crystalline beings.

Van Doorn eyed her autolaser. “I don’t know what outfit you’re form,” He commented slowly. “But I haven’t seen gear like _that_ before.”

“Question time later, General,” She answered hurriedly as she fired her weapons. The bullets the NATO soldiers were firing seemed to be doing nothing to the outsiders, just sparking off their body.

“Carma-“ Mira began ordering when a plasma bolt slammed into the woman’s helmet, killing her instantly.

“Soldier down!” Abby yelled as she rushed futilely to the body.

Two red beams rained down on the remaining sectoids, killing both. Abby looked at the dead sectoids, and back where the Silence was stationed. “He needs a visual! She yelled. “He can’t get a shot off otherwise!”

It made sense. Wouldn’t it be nice if he could _actually tell them that_? She looked at Mira. “I’ll go up. Deal with the outsiders.”

“Go,” She stated and her and the General began firing at the approaching outsiders. Patricia leapt over her cover and dashed to the back of a moving truck. Trying to ignore how easy a target she was, she peeked out and moved her hand up to find the little knob by her earpiece. She’d never found a good use for it before, but was extremely grateful now that it was implemented.

In the background. She heard Mira and Van Doorn giving orders and distracting the outsiders. She tried her best to block out how close she was to the aliens. Zooming her HUD, she scanned across the gap between the bridge and highway. The smoke and ash made it difficult to get a clear picture, but it was the best she could do-

_There!_

On one knee, directly at the edge of the other side of the exploded highway was a thin man. But this wasn’t the usual thin man, He wielded some sort of plasma sniper rifle and instead of the odd business suit, wore some sort of black armor, instead of spectacles, the right side of his face was augmented, presumably to assist his aim.

She thought furiously at how to implement the function she need, then blinked in remembrance. “Squad-sight function implemented!” She informed as she kept as clear a visual feed on the thin man sniper as possible. The seconds ticked by like hours as the thin man scanned for new targets.

Her heart pounded as his head turned towards her. The alien cocked his head and turned his weapon towards her.

“Anytime would be nice…” she hissed, resisting the urge to pull back.

Her patience was rewarded when a red beam burned its way through the thin man’s head. The force threw him back as an acid cloud poured from the wound. She let out a cheer. “Nice shot!”

“Patricia, look out!” Li shouted and she turned to see one of the outsiders aiming it’s weapon at her. She began firing and moving to the side, most of her bolts missing. The ones that hit staggered the alien, but it simply raised it’s hand and shot back the absorbed energy.

“Sustain fire on it!” She ordered Li as she dashed back to the defensive line. Sliding behind an exploded car, she glanced over to see the situation was worse than she’d thought.

One of the outsiders hand reached the line and was executing the helpless NATO soldiers without mercy. Their weapons did virtually nothing as the outsider shot one in the chest, then rushed over to another one and grabbed her by the neck, then snapped it, killing her instantly.

“Sustain fire on it!” Mira ordered and a few seconds later three beams burned into outsider which slowed as it’s whole body glowed orange. She added her fire as well and the Silence also fired.

The NATO soldiers along fell back as the outsider shattered from the energy contained inside it. She let out a sigh, about to reload-

“Duck!” Van Doorn yelled and without hesitation she fell and three bolts of plasma struck the metal above her, she could almost feel the heat and corrosion, they were so close. She sprang back up and saw the outsider preparing to fire again when the General himself slammed into the outsider, knocking the weapon out of it’s hand.

The alien turned and appraised the General who leapt back while unloading his weapon on the crystalline being. “Come on!” He roared. “I won’t go down without a fight!”

Was he crazy? Who would think to _charge_ something like that? Not that she really cared at the moment, she scrambled back as two quick laser strikes from the Silence slowed the outsider from advancing on Van Doorn.

The outsider turned and looked to where the Silence was stationed and raised it’s hand, energy gathering, then staggered back as Van Doorn slammed the butt of his rifle into it’s back. With an inexplicable smile on his face he glanced at her. “Fire already! Not fair if I have all the fun.”

Patricia complied, and this time, she didn’t miss. The outsider staggered back, raising both hands to discharge the energy when the sustained red beams of Mira and Abby burned into the alien. Van Doorn was still a meter and a half away, putting a new clip in his rifle.

The outsider struggled to rise, and after a few seconds, gave up and clenched it’s fists and crossed it’s arms over it’s torso. Patricia’s eyes widened as pulsing orange energy began to gather. It knew it wasn’t going to live… which meant…

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she realized what the outsider was trying to do. “It’s going to blow!” She yelled and dashed toward Van Doorn and with a flying leap tackled him to the ground.

With a shriek like shattering glass, and the sound of a whirling gale, she heard the outsider explode. She placed her arms over Van Doorn’s exposed face to shield him from any repercussions. She screamed as what felt like dozens of hot needles tore into the entirety of her back side.

Then there was silence.

She attempted to move and let out a groan as white hot pain coursed through her body. She heard footsteps running over to her. With an audible scream, she pushed herself off Van Doorn and lay gasping and curled on the ground.

“Easy,” Abby told her urgently as she knelt down beside her and she heard her unhook her med-kit. “Hold still, we have to get the armor off. She nodded to show she understood and Abby hurriedly unhooked the back armor piece off.

“This is going to hurt,” she warned, then pulled. Patricia gritted her teeth as what felt like a dozen needle were pulled from her back.

“This’ll help,” Abby assured her and Patricia felt the blessed coolness of the med-kit as it was sprayed on her back. She made an attempt to rise and gasped as sharp pains wracked her legs and feet, but Abby pushed her down. “We need to get you back to the Citadel, there are still shards on your legs and helmet. I’m going to put you under so we can move you safely.

Patricia nodded and once Abby injected her with the sedatives, eagerly embraced the darkness of unconsciousness

* * *

 

The wounds appeared to be mostly superficial, but Abby wasn’t taking chances. Li and the sniper carried the unconscious Patricia to the landed skyranger while Mira and Van Doorn talked nearby.

As far as she could tell, instead of simply shattering, the outsider had directed the energy inside him to act like an anti-personnel grenade, shooting tiny shards of crystal in all directions. If not for the armor, Patricia would have been dead. But as it was, her wounds were probably not as bad as initially supposed.

She walked over to Mira and the General. “We should head back now. I think she’ll be fine, but I want to examine her sooner than later.”

Mira nodded. “Agreed. Come on, General.”

He crossed his arms. “I’m not leaving my men.”

“A UN team is on their way now.” Mira told him. “This isn’t up for debate.”

“We’ll be fine, General,” one of the solders told him. “Your safety is more important.”

He let out a sigh. “You sure, Boan?”

“Completely, sir.”

“Very well,” He answered, then nodded toward the skyranger. “Lead the way miss…”

“Vauner.”

He nodded as they began walking. “It was looking pretty bad out there,” he told Mira. “We wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t shown up.”

“No,” she stated. “You wouldn’t.”

He looked a little taken aback at that, but appeared to shrug it off and they all boarded the skyranger. Within a few minutes they were airborne and heading back. Patricia lay on the floor with Abby kneeling on the floor beside her, monitoring her vitals and sedative levels. Van Doorn cleared his throat.

“I over your one, seriously,” he told them. “I wouldn’t be here without you. I don’t know what you have, but when we get back, drinks are on me.”

Abby chuckled at that and Li nodded in approval. “I agree with this decision.”

“So, if you don’t mind my asking, just _who_ are you?” Van Doorn asked, clasping his hands together.

Abby opened her mouth to answer when the skyranger jerked hard to the right. Abby reached up and grabbed a seat to steady herself as Mira looked to the cockpit. “This is Squad Oversee Vauner to Fallen Sky. What was that?”

_“Change of plans,”_ Fallen Sky actually sounded…worried. _“We’re being rerouted.”_

Abby frowned.

“Why?” Mira demanded.

_“This is the Commander to Seahawk Team,”_ the Commander interjected, the underlying tenseness in his voice immediately making her nervous. _“Apologies for this, General, but we have no choice. The aliens are attacking Germany and we need as many people there as possible.”_

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Glass Cage

_Personnel:_

Seahawk 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Specialist Mira Vauner

            **Status:** Active

            **Kills:** 4

Seahawk 2 – Specialist Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Wounded (Estimated 5 Days)

            **Kills:** 4

Seahawk 3 – Specialist Abigail Gertrude

            **Status:** Active

            **Kills:** 3

Seahawk 4 – Specialist Carma Hoyle

            **Status:** Deceased

            **Kills:** 2

Seahawk 5 – Private Youseif Li

            **Status:** Active

            **Kills:** 2

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Tristen Ward – Call sign: “Fallen Sky”

_Target(s) Extracted:_

NATO Army General Peter Van Doorn

 

 

 

 

 

 


	22. Absolute Terror

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

The barracks were silent, except for the TV that broadcast the attack to the soldiers crowded around it. The shaky news cams didn’t have the best shot, but everyone could clearly see the outline of a massive alien ship bombarding a city in the distance. And on the lower screen was the typical “Breaking News” strip.

HAMBERG UNDER ASSAULT.

In a remarkably calm voice, the newscaster was narrating the scene. _“This attack on Hamburg represents the latest evolution in the alien phenomenon. Rumors about the existence of aliens has been prevalent in the past several months, but this is the first proof of direct alien activity.”_

Shawn had seen his fair share of shocking events. The Sears Tower bombing, Mecca, the assassinations of Russian and American leaders, but this felt different to him. Perhaps it was because he knew the full extent of the implications. Such a blatant attack meant that the aliens had stopped toying with them and directly sending a message of supremacy.

He glanced over at Luke who stared stone-faced at the screen, the only indicator of his feelings was his hands balled into fists. Once news of the attacks started coming in, every single soldier had geared up, regardless of if they would be deployed or not. When orders finally came in, they wanted to waste as little time as possible.

He felt a hand slip into his own and glanced over at Carmelita who walked up beside him, her face tight in a deliberate suppression of emotion. They didn’t say anything. He didn’t honestly know what _could_ be said right now.

 _“We’re receiving reports of alien forces in the city itself,”_ the newscaster continued. _“Police and local military forces are doing their best to contain the situation.”_

The massive alien craft appeared to be leaving the area. Hamburg was still standing, but the news footage showed fires burning across the city. “What the hell is the Commander waiting for?” Carmelita muttered angrily. “People are _dying_!”

“I’m sure he’s just…preparing,” Shawn answered, not sounding entirely convinced, even to himself. He honestly had no clue what the Commander was doing now.

The news copter was taking advantage of the alien ship leaving and flying in to get a closer look. Shawn didn’t have any interest in see the devastation. Damn news stations and their quest for high ratings. Some things shouldn’t be shown. He and Carmelita walked away and sat down on one of the bunks.

“This could not have happened at a worse time,” Carmelita spat, disgust clouding her voice. “We’re down some of our best.”

Shawn gave her hand a squeeze. “Hey, we’ve still got people here. You, Liam, Myra, Luke. We don’t need Patricia or Mira to beat them.”

“But we’d have a better chance,” she sighed, looking down. “This is too well-timed. We send our best on some secret mission and suddenly Germany is under attack. This _can’t_ be a coincidence.”

He got on a knee and looked her in the eye. “Don’t go there,” he insisted. “This is probably just due to bad timing. As terrible as it is, this isn’t entirely unexpected.”

Her eyes sparked. “I’ve been on the receiving end of these kind of ‘coincidences’ too often to ignore!” She took a shuddering breath and her gaze softened. “Please trust me on this,” she pleaded. “I know what I’m talking about. We were set up.”

He was silent for a few seconds, then sat on the bunk by her. “No offense,” he told her, looking ahead. “But I really don’t want to trust you on this.”

“I know. I wish you didn’t have to,” She said softly. “But-“

His wristband vibrated, the shaking piece of metal piercing cutting her off and he looked up at her, a sense of finality settling down upon him. It was time.

 _“Specialists Rodriguez, Cage, Warner, Cortez, Francis and El-Amin report to the hanger immediately!”_ Bradford ordered over the intercom, the urgency in his voice only adding to the tense atmosphere.

“You heard him!” Myra yelled as she grabbed her laser rifle. “To the hanger! Double time!” There was a chorus of affirmatives as the soldiers called grabbed their weapons and donned their helmets. Shawn, gripped his own and began standing up but Carmelita grabbed his arm.

“I won’t ask you to be safe,” she said hurriedly. “But please try not to die.” And leaned in and kissed him on the lips. It was only for a second and she pulled back before he could return but a huge smile spread across his face as he placed his helmet on.

“Understood, ma’am,” he promised as he gave an informal salute.

She gave a weak smile. “Go on. Wipe them out.”

He quickly went and joined the squad at the entrance of the barracks. Every single other soldier stood watching as they prepared to leave. As he joined them, one by one they saluted the squad of soldiers in the style of the Commander, with one fist over the chest.

Any other time he would have made some comment about how melodramatic that was, but he felt that this mission was going to be different. If the aliens had decided to treat them seriously, the war was going to enter a new phase.

“Move out!” Myra ordered and they jogged at a fast pace to the hanger.

But as they ran, Shawn couldn’t shake the feeling that this was going to be one mission where not everyone was coming back.

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

Bradford, Vahlen and Shen stood in the Situation Room in various stages of disbelief. Each of them had known that this was a possibility, but it was one thing to _consider_ it would happen and then have it _actually_ occur. Vahlen and Shen were just watching the screen broadcasting the attack since there was little they could do.

Zhang was in his office, trying to coordinate with his agents and figure out who was still alive and how this happened with no warning. For his part, Bradford was urgently coordinating with his team to figure out the best position for the squad to be deployed.

Bradford glanced over at Vahlen. She’d kept control of herself, but her shimmering eyes and clenched jaw told him how devastated she was.

“Now they change their tactics,” Shen murmured as he watched a building explode on the screen. “But why now? What changed?”

Bradford walked over to him and observed the burning city. There was only one explanation he could think of. “We happened,” he stated grimly as he watched the bombardment. “This is a message to us and the world. That nothing can stop them.”

 “Then let’s show them how wrong they are,” Vahlen practically spat, her knuckles turning white from gripping her tablet with such intensity that Bradford was concerned that she was going to break to break it. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t think that Vahlen would appreciate or listen to anything he said.

He wished the Commander was here. Vahlen had told him that he was putting together a squad and was in contact with that German general as well as redirecting Seahawk Team. Even if he had his hands full, Bradford wished the Commander was here now. Nothing seemed to shake him and he appeared to always have a plan for every situation.

His headset beeped and the voice of the Commander came through, his tone more urgent than usual. _“Bradford, I’ve compiled a squad to head to Hamburg. Sending it now.”_

Bradford looked down and nodded as he saw the message come through. “Got it. Are you coming to the Situation Room? We need all the help we can especially with Zhang occupied.”

He could detect the barest sound of irritation in the Commander’s always-professional tone. _“As I am occupied as well. I’ve got two squads to coordinate, while simultaneously dealing with the German government and military. You don’t need my help, Bradford, as much as you think you do. You were placed in command before me for a reason. Get your people full satellite coverage of Hamburg and reroute all feeds to me.”_

Bradford held in a sigh. It wasn’t exactly unexpected, but he’d prefer not to be giving orders for the moment. “Understood, Commander.”

 _“Let the local police know we’re coming,”_ The Commander ordered. _“I don’t want any problem when either one of the squads land.”_

“Will do,” Bradford acknowledged. “Central, out.”

He ended the call and switched his headset to the global intercom that was broadcast throughout the Citadel. After activating the wristbands of the soldiers selected he issued the orders vocally. “Specialists Rodriguez, Cage, Warner, Cortez, Francis and El-Amin report to the hanger immediately!”

He switched to Riley Ignis’ personal comm. “Riley, get to the skyranger now! You’re taking Bear Team-“

_“Already here, sir. Jason’s also here and Rodriguez is on her way. We’re just waiting for the takeoff order.”_

Despite the situation, Bradford felt a warm feeling of pride spread through him. These men and woman truly were the best humanity had to offer. “Excellent. You are cleared to takeoff whenever everyone’s loaded up.”

_“Will do, Central. Thank you.”_

His headset beeped and he switched it over to receive. _“Central, we’re beginning to receive satellite coverage over Germany.”_ One of his analysts reported.

“Magnify to Hamburg,” Bradford ordered. “And send the current feed to me.”

_“On it.”_

His tablet beeped and Bradford strode quickly over to the holotable and plugged in the tabled and synched the feed to the holotable. Vahlen and Shen turned their gazes away from the news and walked over by him. A holographic recreation of Germany was displayed, and slowly zooming in on Hamburg.

Satisfied, he let the satellites do their work and opened a line to his communications team. “Get a line to the Hamburg police, let them know a UN special forces team is on their way.”

 _“Can’t do that at the moment, sir,”_ one of the communicators responded, her tone torn between frustration and worry. _“All signals to and from Hamburg have been cut off.”_

Bradford cursed. “Get them up, whatever it takes!”

_“Understood, sir.”_

With no way to let anyone know they were coming, Bradford prayed that the police cooperated with them so that this situation didn’t get even worse.

* * *

 

_Skyranger, En route of Hamburg_

It might have been his imagination, but the skyranger seemed to be going faster as it raced across the skies. Shawn rechecked his laser shotgun’s power settings in preparation for the assault. All good. Everyone else had their weapons out as well and were holding them in tense, tight grips.

The mood in the skyranger was slowly changing from stunned and shocked to angry. The aliens had been secretly abducting for months, but now they attacked openly, believing they were untouchable.

That would not stand.

 _“This is the Commander to Bear Team,”_ the veiled anger in the Commander’s voice was apparent to all of them and Shawn’s own anger at the aliens flared brighter than ever. _“You all know what’s going on. Your one objective is to wipe out any aliens on the ground. Rescue civilians if possible, but focus on the aliens. The police can deal with the fleeing civilians.”_

“Have the police been alerted that we’re coming.” Myra demanded.

 _“The aliens have jammed any signals in that area,”_ Central broke in, his tone distracted as if he was doing something else at the same time. _“My team is working on it, but you’ll just have to make do if they give you trouble.”_

“Let me deal with them if they make trouble,” Luke demanded, his voice tight, but calm. “They’ll recognize me.”

That was a _very_ good idea. Shawn had actually forgotten about Luke’s rather famous past. Well, not _forgotten_ , but just…pushed away. The man kept to himself usually and didn’t draw attention to himself. A slightly odd characteristic for a celebrity, but not unwelcome.

Myra seemed to agree. “Good idea,” she nodded. “But unless things deteriorate, let me do the talking.”

Luke leaned back, Shawn couldn’t tell if he was irritated at the order or just calming himself. He frowned under his helmet. “Wouldn’t we have a better chance at avoiding something altogether if Luke did the talking?” He asked.

Everyone looked at him. He was slightly taken aback at the sudden attention, but continued, trying to clarify. “Well, it makes sense. If they’re going to listen to anyone, it’ll be one of their own. And a celebrity at that. I’m not sure they’d give you the same consideration Myra,” he gave an apologetic shrug her way. “No offense.”

“None taken,” she replied curtly. She looked down, clearly thinking hard. She looked back up at Luke. “Are you comfortable with this?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Myra looked back over at Shawn. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. Luke will take point if we encounter any police forces. Understood.”

“Yes, Overseer!” They affirmed.

 _“Glad you got that sorted out,”_ The Commander interjected. _“But you need to prepare in case law enforcement does not cooperate. I’m authorizing the Thanatos Contingency. Employ at your discretion.”_

“We are _not_ killing cops!” Myra stated firmly.

_“That isn’t an order, Overseer Myra. But they may not give you a choice.”_

Shawn could imagine look of stark disapproval on Myra’s face as she answered as neutrally as possible, though some of her irritation managed to seep through. “Understood, Commander.”

_“Excellent. Bradford, continue.”_

_“I’m sending the location of where the alien force is moving,”_ Bradford informed them. _“From the satellite feeds, we’re seeing the aliens openly attacking civilians. The smoke is obscuring a clearer picture, but we suspect that the aliens are employing more advanced units.”_

“How far out are we being dropped?” Myra asked as she shifted in her seat.

 _“Fallen Sky will be hovering directly over the hot zone”_ Bradford answered. _“Expect contact as soon as you hit the ground.”_

“Understood,” Myra stated grimly. “We’ll be ready.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. _“Give ‘em hell,”_ Bradford finally said, letting his professional tone give way to the anger underneath. _“Good luck. Central, out.”_

“Will do, sir.” Myra answered quietly.

 _“Seahawk Team is currently en route as well,”_ The Commander informed them. _“They’ll assist you as soon as possible or will work to contain the alien advancement through the city.”_

“ETA?” Myra asked.

_“Seahawk Team has just lifted off. Half-hour to forty-five minutes at most. You’ll have to make do until then.”_

“Acknowledged.”

 _“Good luck. Citadel Command, out.”_ The line went dead with a click.

 _“Two minutes out!”_ Burning Sky informed them as the skyranger started a descent that caused the vehicle to start vibrating. _“I’ve got a visual of the city. It’s looking bad.”_

“Copy, Burning Sky,” Mira acknowledged as she stood up. “We’ll deploy when ready.”

The rest of the squad followed her lead and stood in the shaking skyranger. Luke and Myra took point while he and Cortez took the second row and Marten and Adrian stood behind him. The skyranger came to nearly a full stop in the span of a few seconds, nearly throwing him to the ground.

The ramp opened up and the smell of smoke and the sound of screams wafted into the vehicle. The ropes fell out and Myra charged out the ramp. “Deploy!” She ordered as she began her descent. Shawn charged out after her, marveling at the destruction around him as he dropped into the burning city.

* * *

 

People were scrambling and running for cover the moment he hit the torn asphalt. All the buildings along the intersection they’d arrive in were burning, the flames spreading to each neighboring building. Their arrival didn’t go unnoticed, as terrified civilians stumbled back and some of them screamed in terror at their approach.

Myra wasted no time. She must have modified her voice projection because her voice echoed across the area. “All civilians must evacuate this area! Get out of here now and find shelter!” She waved her hand forward and addressed the squad. “Move out!”

Weapons raised they stormed through the civilians who fled behind them. “Nothing yet,” Myra muttered as they walked through the street, weapons raised. “It’s too quiet.”

The ground shook as a building imploded in on itself from the fire, crumbling to the ground as it was consumed by the flames.

“Quiet.” Shawn repeated sarcastically.

He imagined her scowl. “Not now, Shawn.”

“Right.” He nodded as they advanced, and a piercing wail of pain caused him to spin around and he saw two figures stumbling away from a different street. A bloodied man was supporting a woman who appeared to have some leg injury, judging by her limp.

Myra motioned Shawn and Cortez towards them. “Check it out. Rest of you stay here.”

The three of them rushed towards the wounded couple. “Are you here to help?” The man asked, panting heavily.

“We are,” Myra assured him. “What happened?”

“We were attacked,” the man wheezed, his tone shaking. “By…bugs…giant purple bug things!”

Shawn hoped the man was kidding, but these _were_ aliens. “What kind of bugs?” he asked urgently.

“They had four legs,” the man attempted. “Spindly bodies and I think they’re covered in some sort of hard plate. They killed _everyone_ and then…” he broke off, as he started sobbing.

“The bodies came back to life…” the woman finished, her voice shaking and gaze cast down. “They came back…” she repeated numbly. “They came back…”

“They’re in shock,” Cortez stated quietly, helmet to helmet. “We need to get them help.”

Shawn agreed. Giant bugs was one thing, but zombies were quite another. Whatever they think they’d seen, it was probably _not_ the dead coming back to life.

“Let me help you,” Cortez offered a hand to the thin, shaking woman who gratefully took it. The sound of screams down the road caught his attention and he looked down the road. There was a faint tapping and shuffling sound, and he could swear he caught a glimpse of…something…

He looked back at Cortez who was helping the woman sit down on a bench. Her black hair pulled back in a ponytail was dusty, but oddly shiny. He still couldn’t see her face since her gaze was still cast down to the ground. He frowned and began walking towards her.

Something was wrong.

Now that he’d deduced that, more odd things started becoming apparent. Her unwillingness to look up, the unusual thinness, how she was oddly almost as tall as Cortez…

“Where are you going?” Mira demanded as he started running toward Cortez.

“Put her down!” Shawn yelled as all the pieces clicked together and he raised his laser shotgun. “She’s an alien!”

Cortez turned around in surprise. “What?”

“Behind you! Shawn shouted helplessly as the woman rose behind him, her reptilian eyes filled with glee. Cortez began turning around but too late as the woman grabbed his head and with a sharp twist, snapped his neck. As Cortez’s body slumped to the ground, the alien raised a long-fingered hand to her mouth and let out the alien wail of the thin men.

“Soldier down!” Marten shouted as he, Luke and Adrian charged over.

Shawn fired his weapon and the beams eviscerated her, but didn’t erase the smile of satisfaction on her face as she died. Shawn yelled in helpless fury and stormed over to the other man who backed away slowly.

“Did you know?!” He demanded as he stormed past Myra and shoved the weapon in his face. “ _Did you know?!”_ He repeated, almost shooting him then and there.

“No!” the man pleaded desperately as he stumbled back, eyes filled with terror. “I swear! She was in the attack just like the rest of us!”

“Shawn, stand down!” Myra ordered as she grabbed his arm which he violently pulled away.

“Let go of me!” he snarled.

“He’s not part of it!” Myra insisted, jabbing a finger at him. “Look at him!” Shawn looked down at the shaking, sobbing man and some of the vengeful fury inside him diminished.

“We’ve got company!” Marten yelled as he ran up with the other three soldiers. Shawn shot one last furious glance down at the man and looked down the street.

A faint roar broke the silence and four…bugs? Jumped out from behind several buildings ahead and started running towards them. “Contact!” Myra yelled. “Take positions and open fire!”

Shawn sprinted towards a car and opened a door it to provide some cover, Myra smashed a window and took a positon in a nearby building, while the rest of the squad took positions on the street and raised their weapons as the creatures charged.

The creatures were similar to how the man had described. The bodies were spindly and thin, it walked on what Shawn would describe as claws rather than legs. It also has little hands that looked too small and short to be useful. It’s slobbering mouth, laced with needle-sharp teeth and pincer let out little chitters every few seconds. The beady white eyes held nothing but bloodlust and hunger.

The street filled with laser fire, the sizzling beams creating a deadly obstacle course for the creatures. They proved to be surprisingly nimble, jumping and weaving through the lasers. Shawn let loose a volley and the spread beam tore into the creature and with a painful wail it collapsed to the ground.

A beam from Marten virtually sliced one in half while Myra and Adrian finished off one more. The lone creature remaining leapt at him and Shawn barely let off a blast that burst the creature apart, splattering him with it’s blood.

Wiping the yellow liquid off his helmet visor, he looked around for more.

He froze as a faint electrical whirring sound reached his ears.

“Behind you!” The man they’d helped yelled in terror as he fled into a nearby building.

Shawn whirled around to see two flying…disks? Approaching from the sky flanked by five drones. There was a visible distortion underneath the disks as they decreased altitude. Some sort of propulsion system? For that matter, what the hell was this thing? It couldn’t just be a flying metal disk, right?

“Fall back!” Myra ordered waving them to her. “Reposition and find new cover!”

“We’ve got hostiles coming in behind!” Adrian shouted as he pointed down the street the creatures had come from. Shawn’s heart sank as he saw two thin men (Actual men this time) dressed in civilian attire and calmly walking down the street, weapons raised. Behind them was a sectoid flanked by three more of the creatures.

Unlike the regular sectoids, this one’s weaponized arm had been augmented into a full black sleeve of metal and a long barrel was attached to the arm. He remembered Patricia describing a similar sectoid when they’d assaulted that UFO. They’d killed it before it could act, but Shawn really wasn’t keen on finding out if it was more powerful than a regular one.

What disturbed him most about it was that the creatures beside it walked calmly and seemed completely subservient. The sectoid had to be mind controlling them or something.

“Take the buildings!” Myra ordered. “We’ll divide them!”

They all shouted in acknowledgement and Shawn dashed with Myra into the building he assumed was a jewelry store based on the expensive accessories on display, while Adrian, Luke and Marten took the store opposite.

“Fire at will!” Myra ordered and took aim at the flying disk. Shawn took out his laser pistol and took aim at the flying drone above it. His beam clipped one of it’s appendages and he watched with satisfaction as it spiraled down and crashed into the building with a brief explosion.

That prompted a response from the disk. With a whirring and shifting of metal, the disk rotated vertically and sprouted long black…rods… on the sides on the disk and something resembling a tail on it’s “back.” But what immediately grabbed his attention were the twin cannons that sprouted from the front. A yellow light gleamed from the “face” of the disk and Shawn immediately pulled back as the thing fired.

He felt more than heard the rounds pound into the wall he took shelter behind. The entire building shook from the force of the rounds which continued for a good three seconds. Myra and he both peeked out of cover and Myra took another shot at the disk. The beam hit the disk in it’s eye and the machine immediately retracted into a disk.

Shawn ducked at new plasma fire slammed into the wall behind him, shattering the displays filled with jewels and diamonds. He looked over to see the two thin men beginning their attack. They took cover behind bus stops and abandoned cars, expressions of utter disgust as they opened fire on Luke’s position.

“Shoot the disks when they open!” Myra yelled as she took another shot at a drone that was hovering over the damaged disk, sparks flying around it, presumably repairing it. The beam sliced into it and it fell to the ground.

The second disk opened up and began firing at the Luke’s position. Yellow steam trailed the rounds as they slammed into the wall. Mortar and wood splinters flew up from the impact of the rounds.

“Shoot it now!” Luke yelled and the three of them raised their weapons and fired the sizzling red beams into the disk. Shawn pulled out a frag grenade and tossed it by the car one of the thin men was hiding behind. Myra focused fire on the other thin man, shredding his cover to pieces.

The thin man behind the car hissed and tried to run but was too late as the grenade exploded and caused a chain reaction within the car which went up in a massive fireball. The shrapnel flung from the explosion ripped into the thin man, killing him instantly and the body was thrown back and a cloud of poison condensed around the corpse. The other thin man tried to flee as Shawn pulled out his pistol and fired a beam that tore through the thin man’s chest, killing it.

He looked back to see the disk shuddering as yellow sparks ran across it’s frame and them exploded, taking one of the drones trying to repair it. Luke let out a whoop as the disk crashed to the ground.

“Incoming!” Martin yelled as the sectoid had apparently gotten tired of sitting around and began moving on them. It pointed in their general direction and the creatures chittered in response and charged them.

The wounded disk opened up again and rolled back and forth as if gaining momentum. It flipped in a perfect circle, launching something from it’s tail appendage at the building Luke, Marten and Adrian were in. “Grenade!” Shawn shouted. “Get down!”

All of them dived away from the window as the grenade exploded in a flash of green and ripped through the entire wall they’d been hiding behind. Luke, Adrian and Marten immediately got up as fast as they could. Adrian stumbled into a wall after rising, clearly disoriented. The disk fired again, the blazing rounds slamming into his head, taking it off in a burst of blood and brains.

“Adrian!” Shawn shouted as the headless body collapsed to the ground. He looked frantically to the side as the creatures fast approach. A sense of calm settled over him. He looked at Myra. “Kill that fucking thing,” he snarled. “I’ll take care of the creatures.”

Myra tried reaching out to stop him, but ignoring her, he jumped out the window and charged the creatures. He shot off a round which tore into one, killing it. He leapt back, letting off another shot as the creatures leapt towards him. He quickly switched to his pistol and fired a sustained beam in a straight line, singing one of them and cutting the leg off of another.

The singed creature leapt at him and he nimbly leaped to the side and took a chance and aimed his foot at the joint and heard it snap with a satisfying crack. The creature screamed and turned around with startling speed. Just in time for him to receive a laser blast to the face.

He felt a blast of heat and heard an explosion and assumed Myra had taken care the disk. He spun around as quickly as possible as the last creature leapt at him. This time he was too slow. The creature jabbed one of it’s claws into his leg and he screamed as it tore into the joint. The animal looked at him as he sank to one knee but he still swung a fist at it, tearing his hand from it’s razor sharp teeth.

The creature shook it’s head and raised it’s head back, preparing to strike when a laser beam burned into it’s face, melting the skin around it. Shawn looked to the direction of the beam to see Luke standing there, lowering a smoking weapon.

Marten rushed over to him as Luke and Myra went to confront the last enemy. Marten unstrapped the med-kit he was carrying and aimed it at the wounded leg. “Hold still, this shouldn’t take long.”

Shawn coughed. “I didn’t know you were a medic.”

“I’m not,” he replied as he focused on spraying the soothing mist. “But I know how to use this thing.” Shawn groaned as he felt the mist seep into the wound. It was unsettling how he could almost _feel_ the cells repairing themselves.

Both of them snapped their heads up as the sound of automatic fire and the sectoid squealing. “Help me up,” He told Marten urgently, who nodded and grasping his forearm, pulled him up. They looked out to see a line of riot police and normal officers on the opposing street, guns raised at Myra and Luke.

Myra had her rifle up, but Luke was raising his hands in a placating gesture. Marten and Shawn jogged over there as quickly as possible. One of the younger officers apparently got spooked at the sudden movement and fired a pistol round. Shawn felt the bullet hit his armor and deflect off of it. He resisted responding in kind, settling instead for a verbal response.

“Are you _kidding me_?” He yelled as he stormed forward. Luke put out an arm, stopping him and yelled something back in German. The leading officer responded in kind. Shawn wished he could understand, but he could only go by their tones.

An explosion in the distance shook the ground and he looked to the right and saw smoke rising in the distance. “Hurry it up Luke,” Myra muttered. “We have to get over there.”

Luke’s tone became more urgent and he removed his helmet to further emphasize his point. The expressions of the police became uncertain and they looked at each other, muttering to themselves. The police captain was silent for a few seconds, then gave an order and the police lowered their weapons.

“Tell them we’re moving towards the explosion,” Myra told him as she motioned them forward. “If they want to help, let us take the lead.”

As Luke communicated what Myra had said, they jogged towards the sound of the explosion. Exhaustion was beginning to seep in, but they kept running.

And entered a bloodbath.

This had apparently been one of the places civilians had fled to, judging from the amount of people screaming as disguised thin men and woman shot the unsuspecting humans in the back. Bodies littered the destroyed streets, most corpses lay on top each other in piles of two or three.

Shawn watched, sickened as more of those creatures ran rampant, mowing down civilians and tearing out their throats. “Shoot at _us_!” Shawn shouted in frustration as he shot one of the thin men in the back.

The aliens turned their attention to them and the five thin men slowly advanced toward them. All of them had those eerily human smiles on their faces and a few seconds later he found out why. One of the dead civilians, throat ripped out and covered in blood rose to his feet and began shambling toward them. Then another rose, and another.

God. That civilian hadn’t been delusional after all.

“What did they do?” Marten stuttered as he shakily raised his rifle.

“We’ll figure that out later. Fire!” Myra ordered and the beams easily tore the walking dead apart and the thin man began firing on their position. The XCOM soldiers and police alike took cover as plasma fire rained down on their positions. The remaining civilians in the area started running behind the police, trying to avoid the fire behind them.

The creatures showed no mercy toward the fleeing civilians. They ripped into, and hunted them down with an insatiable lust. These people needed help.

“I’m going to help!” Shawn yelled to Myra, then leapt out and weaving through the plasma fire, shot one of the creatures which collapsed to the ground. Shawn helped the civilian up and pushed her towards the police line. “Get out of here!” he yelled as the scream of a dying thin man echoed behind him.

He looked out. Two of the creatures left. “Keep them off me!” He yelled at Myra who nodded hurriedly.

“Suppressive fire!” She ordered Luke and Marten, who fired brief laser bursts at the thin men. Shawn looked back to see one of the creatures bearing down on a father carrying a child. He charged and slammed into the creature which flung spittle at him, but not fast enough to avoid a blast of laser to the face.

He waved towards the father. “You’re safe! Go-ugh!“ He grunted as he was flung to the ground as another creature leapt at him, using it’s claws to pin him to the ground, his arms burned as the claws sliced into his flesh. He thrashed on the ground but it was useless.

“Go!” he managed one final time before the creature ripped into his throat with it’s teeth. As the blood poured out and blackness flickered in his vision, he was aware of something strange and terrifying. He was probably imagining it, but he _thought_ that he felt something wriggling it’s way down his throat.

But again, it was probably his imagination.

 _I’m sorry Carmelita_ , was his last thought before the darkness took him completely.

* * *

 

_Skyranger, En route to Hamburg_

_“You’re going to be coming in hot!”_ Burning Sky warned as the skyranger came to a quick stop. Abby made sure Patricia was secure and sedated on the ground before rising and taking her place next to Van Doorn. Despite not having their armor, the General had been adamant about joining them.

He wielded Patricia’s autolaser in place of his ballistic rife and with surprising ease as well. Abby had never thought she’d ever meet the General, much less be going into battle with him. Well, she wasn’t going to complain, thought she wished the circumstances were better.

The ramp opened up and the ropes dropped. “Deploy!” Mira ordered and charged out.

“You done this before, General?” she asked as they went up to the ropes.

“Once or twice,” he answered as he grabbed a rope. “But I didn’t die either time, so I’ll be fine.” Hooking her leg around the rope and attaching the grappling hook, Abby jumped off and slid down the rope and hit the street with a dull thud that was lost in the chorus of screams and cannon fire.

“We’ve got hostiles!” Mira shouted as the charged forward. Abby looked up to see four strange…things hovering in the air, firing at any running civilians in the street. Or those that remained anyway, now they were shooting into apartment buildings. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear they resembled some sort of mechanical aquatic or bird creature.

It’s vertical circular body had metal flaps angled from it’s sides with strange black rods pointing out. Long barreled guns sprouted under it’s “face” and lone eye, not to mention the tail on the back of it.

Bodies of dead civilians littered the streets. Men, woman and children all lay on the ground, dismembered, bloodied, and torn apart. It made Abby sick seeing the carnage, but she couldn’t do anything to help them now. Focusing on the street she saw several thin men sweeping the street, firing on any surviving civilians.

A long beam of red was shot from behind her and burned a hole through one of the thin men. She turned behind her to see the sniper lower his weapon and dash towards the ladder of one building and begin climbing.

“Concentrate fire on the machines!” Mira ordered as all of them dashed to cover. “The sniper will take care of the thin men.”

The machines turned to them and the two closest ones began firing on their position while the far two transformed into disks with a series of metal clicks and whirring. Dust flew up from the ground where the machines fires, the sizzling rounds coming dangerously close to her.

Van Doorn had taken a position behind a car and raised his autolaser and fired several massive red bolts into one of the machines which broke through one of the cannons and tore into the machines innards. As it sparked and emitted mechanical groaning, it fell from the sky with a crash.

Laser fire came from Mira’s position inside an abandoned building. Abby took aim at the approaching disks, hearing thin men death screams in the background. She fired her rifle and the red beam struck the chrome covering, but didn’t seem to be doing anything. She sustained the beam and only ceased when her rifle ran out of energy.

An explosion confirmed the second machine had died and while Abby reloaded, she quickly appraised her work. A black scorch mark was left from her beam, but otherwise didn’t seem to have wounded it.

“Shoot when they’re open!” She shouted in case they hadn’t figured it out.

“Take cover!” Mira ordered. “Firing rocket!” Abby looked over to see Mira step out of cover, get down on one knee and place the rocket launcher on her shoulder. The machines immediately opened up and the instant they did Mira fired.

The rocket slammed into the closest machine with a colossal explosion that blew metal and orange fluid every which way. The remaining disk fired in retaliation as Mira stumbled back. The sizzling bolts slammed into the ground around her and Abby watched with horror as one punched clean through her right arm.

Mira didn’t even pause. Retaliatory laser fire from the soldiers hit the machine, most of it reflecting off the armor, though some clipped it’s systems. The machine retracted back into a disk and Abby took a chance and dashed over to Mira while the rest of the squad kept sustained fire on it. Mira was still doing her part, even if her right arm was useless, her laser pistol making new scorch marks in it’s armor.

Mira pulled back as Abby came up next to her. “Can you move it?” She asked urgently.

“No,” Mira answered grimly.

“Can you feel anything?”

“No, but that’s not from the shot.”

Abby honestly needed to inquire about that, but at the moment, cleaning the bleeding wound had to take priority. She raised the med-kit and sprayed the wound which stopped bleeding after a few seconds.

“Appreciated,” Mira told her, then returned to firing with her pistol.

“More incoming!” Van Doorn shouted and Abby saw five bug-like creatures charging their way. Spittle flew from their mouths and pincers and their four claws made light tapping sounds as they ran.

Li fired his rifle at one of them which cleanly bisected one and a beam from the roof of the opposing building from the sniper took care of another. The remaining three ducked and weaved through the light show and the disk opened up again, laying down indiscriminate fire.

“Take it out now!” Mira shouted and everyone momentarily turned away from the creatures toward the machine. Even the alien armor couldn’t sustain the combined fire of five soldiers, especially if any weak points were exposed. It tried to retract again, but too many of it’s systems had been damaged and it exploded in a yellow burst.

But now the creatures were on them. Li and Van Doorn retreated from their positions, firing frantically. One creature leapt at Van Doorn, who stepped back and swung his massive weapon which slammed into the creature and threw it to the ground. He wasted no time unloading what remained in his weapon, blasting the creature to a pulp.

One charged Mira, but even her wounds didn’t proved a hindrance as she nimbly leapt back and fired two pistol shots in quick succession, one severing a leg and the other scoring a hit on its thin torso. The unbalanced creature stumbled to the ground and Mira stormed up to it, firing another beam that severed its other front leg. The creature hissed and roared in pain, but was abruptly thrown back when Mira kicked it in its teeth, then once it’s head was on the ground, slammed her boot down on the head and ground it into the unyielding asphalt.

The final creature was almost upon Li who was too slow to avoid one of it’s claws which jabbed into his leg, cracking the plate, but giving Abby enough time to fire at it. The laser hit one of the thing’s spindly arms, dismembering it entirely. The creature stumbled back in pain, then collapsed to the ground as another beam from the sniper burned a hole through it’s head.

Relative silence fell across the area. Abby rushed over to Li who was adjusting his leg armor. “You alright?” She asked. He tried adjusting the cracked armor but ended up shrugging.

“Yes,” he answered. “But I can’t take another hit there.”

 _“This is Central to Seahawk Team,_ ” Bradford interrupted on their comms. “ _You’re not far from Bear Team. They need reinforcements now. Sending directions.”_

“Understood,” Mira replied then waved them in the direction of Bear Team. “Come on!”

They charged after Mira through the streets filled with civilian corpses to bring this nightmare to an end.

* * *

 

“Shawn!” Myra screamed as the alien creature ripped his throat out. Luke raised his laser SMG and fired at the creature, killing it and it collapsed on top of the body. The thin men were still shooting at them, but falling back as the line of police kept pushing forward.

“Frag out!” Marten shouted as he threw a grenade at one of the thin men hiding behind a concrete column. The thin man dashed out and then fell to the ground from multiple gunshot wounds from the police’s weapons. He hissed and Luke used that opportunity to shoot a beam at his face.

Luke heard a faint moan sound and turned to the side to see the body of Shawn rise and push the creature’s corpse off him. The thing that had once been human shambled towards them. The police turned their weapons on it, but most of the rounds just bounced off the armor.

“Take care of that…thing!” Myra shouted as the last two thin men started shooting another volley of plasma. Luke nodded grimly and aimed his SMG at the joints of the armor. That creature must do something to the dead bodies, there had to be _some_ explanation for this. He fired at the corpse and the red beam severed the leg and it collapsed to the ground.

The thing crawled forward, leaving a red smear as it the destroyed asphalt tore the stump of it’s leg apart. Luke lowered his weapon at the head and fired a sustained beam that tore through the helmet. The corpse finally stopped moving.

A chorus of new screams caused him to look back toward the police line where a small green cloud had appeared in part of the line. Thin men poison. The police officers caught in the cloud were screaming and clutching their faces. For the first time he saw the devastating effects of the poison on uncovered skin.

He could almost see the skin melting off as the acid ate at the fragile skin. All the officers caught in the cloud were blinded, their eyes now white orbs. The first layer of skin was gone, showing the exposed muscle and tendons and the poison was no doubt ravaging their throats when they breathed it in. What a horrible way to die.

Their comrades were pulling them out and the ones remaining pushed forward past the cloud. The furthest thin man stood up, put a hand to his mouth and let out that shrill wail. He had one chance to end him.

Taking a deep breath he stood, took a second to line up the shot and fired. The laser burned through the air until it landed directly in the throat of the thin man who collapsed to the ground in a cloud of poison.

The last thin man took off running and Myra, Marten and he fired beams in his direction, but they all missed. At the end of the street it slid to a stop and leapt back in apparent surprise. Luke frowned, confused until a rain of red lasers shredded the alien. Coming around the corner was Seahawk Team.

Luke had never been more relieved to see anyone in his life.

They didn’t exactly look well, but had clearly fared better than they had. The police began tending to their own and the three surviving soldiers went over to the new arrivals.

“Overseer Rodriguez,” Mira greeted as they ran up. Something was wrong with her right arm, as it just hung limply by her side. “We came as quickly as possible.”

Myra looked around the area. At the dead civilians, police officers and soldiers. Finishing with a lingering gaze at Shawn’s ruined body. “Not quick enough.” She muttered, not quite able to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Luke put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but didn’t say anything.

Mira looked around and then seemed to realize they were down three soldiers. “I’m sorry,” she told them sincerely. “But we did our best.”

“We know,” Luke assured her before Myra could respond. “You had your own mission.”

“Not just that,” Abby told them. “We ran into another alien force terrorizing the city. Some sort of machines and creatures.”

His earpiece buzzed with static and the voice of Bradford broke through. _“This is Central of Seahawk and Bear Teams. We’re not detecting any alien activity within the city. You’ve done it.”_

No one celebrated or cheered. It didn’t feel like a victory.

Hundreds were dead. The city was nearly destroyed and several excellent soldiers had died defending a country that wasn’t their own, and in the case of Shawn, saving people they didn’t know.

Luke felt tired. He just wanted this nightmare to end.

He saw both skyrangers fly overhead and set down in the street amidst the corpses.

“Come on,” Mira told them as they began walking that direction. “Let’s go home.”

When they boarded the skyranger, Luke stayed standing as the vehicle took off. Observing the still-burning city under him, he wished the cost of saving it hadn’t been so high.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation Shattered Calm

_Personnel:_

Bear 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Specialist Myra Rodriguez

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 6

Bear 2 – Specialist Luke Warner

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 6

Bear 3 – Specialist Shawn Cage

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Kills:** 9

Bear 4 – Specialist Kim Cortez

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Kills:** 0

Bear 5 – Specialist Marten El-Amin

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 4

Bear 6 – Specialist Adrian Francis

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Kills:** 3

Seahawk 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Specialist Mira Vauner

            **Status:** Wounded (Estimated 5 Days)

            **Kills:** 4

Seahawk 2 – Specialist Abigail Gertrude

            **Status:** Active

            **Kills:** 2

Seahawk 3 – Private Yousef Li

            **Status:** Active

            **Kills:** 2

Seahawk 0 – Peter Van Doorn

            **Status:** Active

            **Kills:** 3

Mission Directors: The Commander, Central Officer Bradford

Pilot 1: Riley Ignis – Call sign: “Burning Sky”

Pilot 2: Tristen Ward – Call sign: “Fallen Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-1x Modified Sectoid Corpse (Moderate Damage)

-6x Alien Machine Wrecks

-5x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-15x Alien Animal Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-7x Thin Men Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-3x Thin Woman (?) Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-45x Alien Weapon Fragments

-20x Alien Alloys

 

 

 

           

 


	23. Aftermath

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

“What the hell happened?”

The Commander rested his hands on the holotable, his fingers wrapped around the edges while he scanned the small group with his piercing gaze. Vahlen stood to his right and Bradford to his left. Both were silent at his statement, Vahlen had been unusually quiet ever since the Commander had asked them here. Shen and Zhang stood across from him. The elder engineer actually looked his age at the moment, his face sad and weary. In contrast, Zhang betrayed no emotion one way or another. His arms were clasped behind his back as if expecting a harsh reprimand.

Which was quite frankly deserved. XCOM Intelligence had been created for this very reason: to gather information to anticipate, predict and prevent alien attacks. And an attack on this scale should have been picked up _somewhere._

Zhang seemed to recognize this. Inclining his head in deference he answered. “I have no excuse, Commander. We were tricked. We focused on, and drew different conclusions than what was actually happening.”

The Commander waved his hand in a small circle, indicating for him to continue. “Enlighten us.”

“We believed that the aliens were trying to destabilize Germany for their own usage,” Zhang continued. “Possibly to plant a puppet and effectively control the country. Based on the list Wernher provided of alien infiltrators, that may have possibly been the original intention.”

Bradford folded his arms. “So what changed?”

“We acted,” Zhang clarified, shaking his head. “When we captured the dissenters, it was apparently enough for the aliens to abandon whatever plans they had before.”

“So they decided the best course of action was to level a city,” the Commander stated skeptically. “And there were no signs at all about what they were planning?”

Zhang sighed. “As I said, we focused on the wrong thing. We were watching the rioters, expecting one of the thin men to either take a leadership position, or a secondary one. We lost valuable time before we began noticing that most of the infiltrators were not in the city or leaving it.”

The Commander pinched the bridge of his nose. “Did your operatives survive at least?”

Zhang nodded briefly. “Yes. There were no casualties.”

“More than can be said for the soldiers,” Bradford muttered dejectedly. “Some of the survivors are taking it…hard.”

The Commander sighed. Well, this had to come up eventually. “I know your resources and time are limited,” he told Zhang. “But this cannot happen again.”

Zhang nodded grimly. “It will not, Commander. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” The Commander chastised. “But I have no doubt you’ll do you best. Now then, let’s move on.” The Commander pushed himself up from the holotable and grabbed his tablet. Switching his thought processes, be brought up the next topic of interest. “The Hamburg assault.”

A depressed silence fell over the room. “You have a list of casualties.” Vahlen asked him softly, taking a step closer to him.

“Yes.” The Commander looked up at the, lips pursed. “Currently the civilian death toll stands around fifty thousand and is expected to rise. Most were killed in the initial bombardment from that alien ship, while only several thousand died from the roaming aliens.”

“God.” Shen muttered sadly as he looked down.

Vahlen put a hand on the Commander’s arm. “At least we were there to stop them. Who knows how many more would have died had we not intervened.”

“For some reason, I doubt the Council is going to see it that way,” The Commander muttered grimly, gaze intensely focused on the holotable. “We failed. Our job was to ensure that an event like this _wouldn’t_ happen.”

“No.” Vahlen practically spat as she looked him in the eye, her own filling with fury. “This can be laid squarely on the Council. EXALT and the aliens might have taken advantage, but the Council is responsible for enabling this disaster in the first place.”

Shen pursed his lips and opened and closed his mouth several times before finally speaking. “Vahlen…” he began hesitantly, knowing it was going to upset her. “We only have direct evidence of _one_ councilor involved. We simply don’t have all the facts-“

“Then we act on what we _do_ have!” She shot back furiously. “This cannot go unpunished!”

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Shen continued, his voice faltering under her piercing gaze. “But listen, please. Believe me, I want to learn the truth as much as you, but we can’t act on emotion. This is your country, I get that. But we can’t make rash decisions based on incomplete information.”

“Easy for you to say,” Vahlen retorted, glaring at him. “Your country isn’t collapsing as a result of idiot politicians. Would you be saying the same thing if New York had been attacked?”

Shen looked down. “I don’t know,” he admitted dejectedly. “I really don’t.”

“Vahlen,” the Commander interjected, putting a hand on her arm. “As much as I hate this entire situation, Shen is right.” He looked into her eyes. “We can’t act out of emotion,” he emphasized. “We need facts. We need to regroup and we need to plan for the aliens next move.” He softened his tone further. “But I promise you we will find out the truth and those responsible will be punished.”

She nodded jerkily, apparently accepting that for now. The Commander glanced at Bradford. “What’s the current status of Germany?”

“Chaos.” Bradford declared as he shook his head. “People are running rampant and unchecked. Looting, rioting and protesting are all happening at the same time. The police are hamstrung trying to keep order and care for their own.”

“The government is going to make a statement soon,” Zhang interjected as he consulted his tablet. “I expect the chancellor will make an attempt to calm the populace.”

Vahlen let out a stark, sharp laugh. “Him?” she asked in disbelief. “His cabinet handled the crisis in the worst way possible. He should be _expelled_ for his incompetence.”

“I agree.” Zhang nodded. “The military needs to lock down the country _now_ otherwise they’ll lose control for good. But based on his current, ah, _leadership_ , I suspect he’ll do nothing.”

“These people are scared and devastated,” Shen argued. “Turning Germany into a police state will _not_ help.”

“I would rather see my country secure than in chaos,” Vahlen interrupted, glaring at Shen. “Besides, it would only be temporary.”

Bradford frowned and looked down. “Like it or not, Vahlen, Shen has a point. A police state can easily become a dictatorship and with the state of Germany, it would be easy to justify. I’m also certain the UN doesn’t want to deal with that right now.”

“We should wait for the announcement before deciding how to handle Germany,” the Commander interrupted. “In the meantime, I’m certain the Council will wish to speak to me soon. I will not be surprised if Germany is considering pulling out.”

Vahlen’s eye went wide. “Are they crazy?” she demanded. “XCOM is their only hope against this invasion!”

“Not everyone thinks so,” Zhang interjected, shaking his head. “When faced with imminent danger, self-preservation becomes most important. The German government is scared.”

“And this will be presented as a defeat,” the Commander added in, frustration tinging his voice. “The councilors aligned against me will use this as proof of my ‘incompetence.’”

She snorted. “That is such a ludicrous statement.”

“Anyone who takes a good look will agree,” Bradford nodded. “But I doubt they care about that.”

The Commander rapped the table twice, drawing their attention. “This is what I will do,” he began, his eyes hardening. “When the Council decides to speak to me, I will do so, and depending on how that goes, decide how to deal with them.”

He began pacing. “I will not move publically against them without solid evidence, but that doesn’t mean I will ignore what’s been done.” He paused and looked at Zhang. “I want everything on Ali Ennor. His habits, family and job. If the meeting with the Council goes poorly, I will deal with him directly.”

Zhang nodded and the ghost of a smile played on his lips. “With pleasure.”

“That’s suicide,” Shen pointed out. “He’ll just use that against you, especially if you threaten him.”

“Which is why I will learn everything I can about him beforehand,” the Commander replied evenly. “He has a weakness. Something he cares about. Control that and I’ll ensure he doesn’t talk.”

Shen grimaced, but didn’t object further. Bradford stepped forward, plugging in his tablet. A few red dots appeared on the holotable. “The aliens are being quiet for the moment,” Bradford explained. “These are all the UFO signatures we’ve intercepted over the past few hours. I suspect that attack took many resources.”

“Be watchful,” the Commander instructed him. “We need to be prepared for another attack like this.”

He glanced at Shen. “Is the new armor ready?”

Shen sighed and nodded. “Yes,” he answered dejectedly. “If only we had finished it sooner.”

“That is not your fault,” the Commander stated adamantly. “You did the best you could. I’ll be down in a few hours.” He picked up his tablet. “I’ve requested additional soldiers, and expect them to arrive in the next few days. Our fighting force should be restored to full strength soon.”

“I’ll prepare for their arrival.” Bradford promised.

The Commander nodded. “I expect I’ll see you here very soon, probably when the chancellor gives his statement. In the meantime, dismissed. I suppose I should see to our guest Van Doorn.”

“He’s been walking around the base,” Zhang informed him. “Last place was the Engineering Bay.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “You’re tracking him.”

“Of course.”

“Fair enough,” He gave them his salute which Zhang, Bradford and even Vahlen returned. “Time to go speak to him.” He paused. “Although, I do have one more matter to attend to.”

They all filed out, though he saw Vahlen hesitate. Catching her gaze, he indicated with his eyes that she follow them. They would speak later. She gave the barest of nods and walked out behind them. Once the door had sealed shut, the Commander rubbed his eyes and let out a long sigh. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, which told him how tired he really was.

But he had a job to do. And loitering around wallowing in his failure wasn’t part of it. He strode out of the Situation Room and headed towards the barracks.

***

_The Citadel, Barracks_

The Commander strode towards the Barracks, hoping she was there. Last he’d checked the cams, she’d been with the other soldiers, but it was likely she had moved. He’d considered calling her up to his office, but wasn’t keen on making this a public spectacle, especially now.

But luck was with him today as he saw Myra walking out the door, then to the side and leaned against the hallway wall. She didn’t look good. She was still in her scraped, bloodied and dirty armor, minus the helmet. Her black hair hung uneven down her ebony face and her eyes were bloodshot. He suspected that she was going to cry when she was certain she was alone.

He hesitated. If it were any other time he’d let her be, but as it stood now, there was probably not going to be an opportune time to talk to her soon, especially if the Council meeting went bad. He began walking towards her, taking care not to startle her. She looked up in surprise at his approach and hastily straightened and snapped into a salute.

“Specialist Rodriguez,” he greeted with a nod.

“Commander,” she responded, her ragged voice tired. “Apologies, I didn’t know you were coming.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No apology necessary, Myra. I would have announced it publically otherwise. But as it stands now, I don’t care about that.”

Myra relaxed and lowered her arm. “Is there something you want, Commander?”

He waved his arm down the hallway. “Walk with me. We should talk.” She complied and they walked down the deserted hallway together. She finally broke the silence.

“Is there a problem?” She asked hesitantly. “I understand if you have…doubts…after what happened.”

“What happened in Hamburg was not your fault,” he dismissed, shaking his head. “You were outnumbered and faced against alien forces we hadn’t dealt with before. While regrettable, there will be casualties we cannot prevent.”

He saw her lips purse at that. She clearly didn’t entirely agree with him. To her, every soldier lost was a personal failure, and while he could understand that, it wasn’t conductive for a leader to feel bad over every single soldier lost.

The human mind could only handle so much guilt before snapping.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t need to speak with you about that. But I do want to know, do you have a problem with me?”

Her head snapped up and eyes widened in surprise and confusion. “Sorry,” she asked, surprise coloring her voice. “What?”

His lips formed into a grim line as he looked at her as they walked. “I’m not deaf, Mira. That was the second time you interpreted my authorization of the Thanatos Contingency as an order and publicly refused to follow it.”

Her mouth opened as closed several times as she tried formulating a response, as it was clear she hadn’t expected this conversation. “Yes Commander, I did.”

He appreciated that she was honest about it, still he sighed. “I have no issues with you disagreeing with me, or even disliking me,” he told her, letting some steel creep into his neutral tone. “But if you _do_ have an issue with me, don’t avoid it. I tolerate insubordination to a point. I can understand the first time, even if it showed your lack of understanding about how the contingency works in the first place, and that you apparently skipped over where it said the killing of civilians and police forces was a last resort.”

She frowned and stared ahead, eyes flashing as she thought up a response. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“You don’t need to ask. Go ahead.”

“You may not have meant it that way,” she answered slowly. “But the way you phrased it as an option….well, I’ve had superiors give orders in the guise of suggestions too many times.”

He nodded, in acknowledgement. “I understand the reasoning. It’s something I’ve tried to break.”

She sighed. “Contrary to what you seem to think, my refusal had more to do with clarifying what you said than insubordination.”

“Then that’s something you should have discussed with _me_ ,” the Commander told her. “Not by trying to figure it out in front of the squad.”

“That was a mistake,” she admitted. “One that I will not repeat.”

The Commander glanced over at her. “Believe it or not I understand your issues,” he told her. “But the contingencies exist for a reason, especially now that the aliens are posing as civilians.”

“Be that as it may,” Myra responded. “I don’t believe us acting as judge and executioner is the way to deal with it.”

The Commander pursed his lips. “Will you still hold that opinion once someone dies because of your refusal recognize the signs and take a chance?”

“That’s the issue for me, Commander,” Myra insisted, shaking her head. “Taking a chance isn’t good enough. I will not give the order until I am certain the person in question is an enemy. Because if I’m wrong, then I’ll be responsible for someone innocent.”

The Commander stopped and turned fully to face her. “Innocent people die in war, Myra,” he told her calmly. “No one escapes without some blood on their hands. I admire your ideals, but they simply aren’t practical on the battlefield. Hard choices have to be made.”

She rubbed her eyes. “Then I’ll just have to work to avoid finding myself in the position to begin with.”

“Try if you wish,” he warned her. “But it’ll happen to you one day.”

“Perhaps,” she answered. “But at least I’ll know I did everything possible to prevent it.”

Well, he’d spoken to her and she still clung to her ideals. Admirable, but it wouldn’t last forever. He inclined his head. “Very well, I hope that you succeed, even if I think it’s unlikely.”

“Appreciated, Commander,” she answered sincerely. “I won’t question your orders publically again.”

“Good enough,” he nodded. “That’s all I wanted to speak about. Get some rest.”

She nodded. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do that.” She saluted, and walked back towards the barracks.

That had gone…well, he supposed. He didn’t think she’d cause any more trouble, but he should still keep an eye on her. Her mindset wasn’t conductive to waging an effective war. He’d have to be careful where and when she was deployed.

In the meantime, he had to speak with the General.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Engineering Bay_

Peter Van Doorn stood in front of a workbench stacked with parts of the new armor Shen had designed. He was typing something on a tablet as the machines and engineers around him worked. He hadn’t changed much since the war. His face was a bit more weathered, sure, but the bald man still had an energetic aura that the Commander had only seen in a few people. It was no wonder he’d achieved his position so quickly. People as charismatic as him were rare.

Van Doorn looked up as he approached. Setting the tablet down, he turned to face him. “Commander,” he greeted, inclining his head. “I’ve been waiting to meet you.”

He extended a hand which the Commander took. “Same to you, General. Apologies for not speaking to you earlier.”

Van Doorn shook his head. “No need. With everything that’s happened I assumed you were…preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied,” the Commander mused. “That’s one way to put it.”

Van Doorn gave a grim smile. “I suppose so. I assume the situation has not improved?”

And this was going to be an issue with talking to him. The General could be useful and provide insight he might have missed. But the issue was that he was still part of NATO and by extension, the United Nations. There were some things that the UN didn’t need to know right now and going off Van Doorn’s record, he struck him as an honest man. Something he didn’t need right now.

Still, he _was_ a General and should be told at least a portion of the truth. “No,” he finally answered. “Unless the German government decides to lock down the country, the situation is only going to deteriorate further.”

Van Doorn sighed. “A pity. This whole situation could have been avoided easily.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “How so.”

“Joint Intelligence suspected that the situation was engineered,” Van Doorn answered. “We passed it up and began to investigate but were told to cut off since there was a ‘lack of evidence.’”

He was sorely tempted to tell the good General what the Council had been doing, but held his tongue. “You just let it go?”

The General hesitated before answering. “Not entirely. We scaled back operations, but didn’t abandon it completely. Sadly, all our major suspects vanished one day. Our chief intelligence officer believed another country had acted or they’d been spooked. But we had other issues, namely the aliens.”

“So NATO knew of their existence?” The Commander confirmed.   

“Yes,” Van Doorn confirmed, a glint in his eye. “Though according to the UN, it wasn’t cause for concern. Something that didn’t exactly go over well in NATO command. I know now that they already had a branch to deal with the aliens. XCOM.”

“Well, I suppose the secret’s out now,” the Commander let out wearily. “I don’t see reasons for both our organizations to not coordinate.”

“With you in charge, I suppose?” Van Doorn inquired with a small smile.

The Commander shrugged. “I’ve been commanding the defense since the first incursion. I know what we’re facing.”

“I agree,” Van Doorn nodded. “But as it stands now, I suspect the UN will keep both our organizations separate.”

The Commander walked over to the workbench and inspected the new armor. “That would be a mistake. We need everyone to be on the same page, especially now.”

Van Doorn was silent for a few seconds and walked up by him. “I’ve taken a little tour of your ‘Citadel.’ You’ve built up an impressive operation. You’re clearly qualified for this position, but I am curious.” He looked the Commander in the eye, interest written on his face. “I’m acquainted with every major military leader in the world, but I’m certain we’ve never met before. Who are you?”

“I served under the Commander for a time during the War on Terror,” he replied carefully. “I left soon after, but that’s likely why you haven’t heard of me.”

He blinked his eyes in surprise. “I admit, that’s not the answer I expected.”

The Commander’s lips curled back. “Very few do.”

“Well then…” Van Doorn began, then trailed off as he shook his head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. The aliens are the more pressing concern than your past.”

How refreshing to hear that. He wasn’t sure how the General would react, but this was certainly the best case scenario. “I appreciate that,” he told him sincerely. “There are some who find it hard to overlook.”

“I suppose some of those on whatever UN delegation you answer to,” Van Doorn nodded. “That makes sense. With so many different countries, it’s inevitable that ideologies will clash.”

The Commander pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a brief chuckle. “You have no idea.”

Van Doorn snorted. “Probably better than you think,” he admitted. “Recently I feel like I’m fighting two wars, one with the aliens and one just trying to wring answers out of UN leadership. Hell, it took an attack on me before I even knew XCOM existed.”

“Just what were you heading to in the first place?” the Commander inquired.

Van Doorn frowned as he thought. “I don’t know exactly. I suspected it had to do with the aliens, but didn’t know for sure. A UN representative Ali Ennor asked me to visit.”

The Commander’s head snapped up. “Are you certain?”

“Yes…” Van Doorn replied in confusion. “Do you know him?”

“Depending on how things go, I might very soon,” the Commander muttered. “But yes, I know of him.”

“Judging from your response, it doesn’t seem like you have a high opinion of him.”

He wondered if this was a bad idea. But perhaps the General might have a better idea. “Your Joint Intelligence team was right. The German destabilization was engineered. And Ali Ennor’s name was dropped multiple times.”

Van Doorn turned completely serious, and lowered his voice further in the loud engineering bay. “Are you certain?”

He nodded gravely. “Completely.”

“Then you know who was behind it.” He noted excitedly, eyes widening.

The Commander nodded once more. “Yes.”

Van Doorn let out a breath. “Perhaps we should speak somewhere more…inconspicuous.”

The Commander raised a hand to cut him off. “I think you’re a good man and general, Van Doorn. But I can’t reveal anything more to you. The simple fact is that you’re part of NATO and answer to the United Nations. I have very good evidence that they are compromised and there is a concerted effort to discredit me within the Council. I cannot afford to have you revealing anything I have, even accidentally.”

Van Doorn whistled. “I didn’t know the situation was this…delicate. But I would still like to speak alone. I have something to propose that might solve some of our problems.”

The Commander cocked his head with interest. “You have my attention.”

“Like I said, not here.” The General insisted.

“Very well,” the Commander nodded. “Follow-“ He was cut off as a burst of static from his earpiece cut him off.

 _“Commander,”_ Bradford greeted him tensely. _“The Council wishes to speak with you. Now.”_

“Understood,” he responded. “Inform the Internal Council to meet in the Situation Room. I want everyone here for them. Me and Van Doorn will be up shortly.”

_“The General will be joining us?”_

“Possibly. His presence might placate the Council just a little.”

_“Understood. Central, out.”_

The Commander clicked his earpiece off and looked back at the General. “The Council wishes to speak to me. You’re welcome to come.”

Van Doorn cocked his head. “Are you certain you want me there?”

“It’s not ideal,” the Commander admitted. “But there are probably some things you should know about the Council.”

“You’re expecting it to go badly?” He asked, folding his arms.

“It depends on who I speak to.” He answered. “You’ll see soon.”

Van Doorn nodded and motioned toward the door. “I’ll follow your lead, Commander.”

Both of them walked out of the noisy room, the Commander preparing every defense he had in preparation for the onslaught.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Medical Ward_

Abby stripped off her bloodied gloves and washed her hands in the stainless steel sink. The operation on Patricia had taken longer than she anticipated, mostly because some of the outsider shards had been embedded fairly deep in her head. No brain damage thankfully, but it had required some delicacy to get the shards out.

She was simultaneously exhausted and alert. The adrenaline from the battle hadn’t completely faded and she was caught in a state of surrealness, not dissimilar to sleepwalking. Everything was… _distant_ to her. Like she was a spectator instead of an active participant. She was terrified that she’d missed an embedded shard, but the machines and an additional examination had turned up nothing.

But she’d done it. Although in a way she almost wished she was still doing _something_.

If only because once she stopped, the images of the carnage started reappearing in her mind.

It was interesting how little she’d paid attention to it when she was actually there. Her eyes had seen the corpses and her ears heard the screams. But she’d been too hyped up on adrenaline to really _feel_ anything. Her mind had prioritized survival above all else.

She took a shuddering breath and gripped the sink as tremors started shaking her body. Images appeared in her mind in vivid detail without permission that she couldn’t stop. A mother’s body slumped over her dead child, the man who’d had this throat ripped out, the sound of one of those creatures tearing into flesh. The sight of the thin men mercilessly mowing down the fleeing civilians.

She let out a chocked chuckle at that. How she’d changed, it hadn’t been too long ago when _she_ was a civvie. But now, alone, in front of a mirror, she wondered if that still wasn’t the case.

Soldiers didn’t have thoughts like these, did they? They stoically dealt with the horrible things they saw and used that as motivation to prevent future atrocities. They didn’t dwell on it and certainly didn’t _cry_ over it. So what was she?

What was she even doing here? She was no soldier. If she couldn’t handle the deaths of a few civilians than how could she be expected to do her job effectively?

And Shawn….it was that thought that caused the tears to start falling interspersed with a broken chuckle.

What was funny? That she’d seen the _better_ part of the attack. What she’d seen had been nothing compared to what Luke, Marten and Myra had seen. She’d questioned Marten and what he’d told her had chilled her to the bone.

He spoke in a toneless, broken voice as he described the dead coming back to life, driven with a primal lust as they’d shambled toward them. He’d described how Shawn had done the same, her friend had come back to life, blood falling from his ripped throat, and tried to kill them. He’d continued, telling her of the thin men poison which melted off the faces of the police officers, the remains looking like rotting corpses.

And she couldn’t _do anything!_

She slammed a fist into the sink with a dull thud.

If they had just gotten there a bit sooner would they have saved more people? Would Shawn still be alive? Or would it not have mattered at all?

No. It wouldn’t have mattered if they’d gotten there ten minutes early or one hundred. They still would have failed. They failed before they even left the skyranger. By attacking at all the aliens had shown that XCOM was powerless to stop them. They’d killed thousands of people, destroyed the lives of countless others just to make a point.

Even the Commander hadn’t done that. He just simply hadn’t cared. Civilians were meaningless to him, but he didn’t go out of his way to kill them unless it directly tied to one of his strategies. Mostly it just…happened. There had always been some military reason for his attacks, horrendous as they were.

But this was worse to her. It was sickening.

The door to the room opened with a squeak and she hurriedly took a breath and tried to compose herself. She wiped her watery eyes with her fist and stroked her hair back in a vain attempt to make herself presentable.

“Is this a bad time?” The voice of Liam asked behind her.

She turned to see him in his customary black military fatigues, though he didn’t look like he’d rested any more than she had. She sighed at him. “I guess not, but you’ll excuse me if I’m not good company right now.” She frowned as she remembered where they were. “What are you even doing here? This is a restricted area.”

Liam walked over to an empty seat and sat down. “One of the nurses asked me down,” he explained wryly. “He told me that you’d finished Patricia’s surgery a half-hour ago and hadn’t come out of this room. He was worried, but apparently you’ve made it clear that you’re not to be interrupted.”

She let out a faint chuckle. “True, true. I guess I did say that,” she looked around in wonder. “I was really standing here that long?”

 “Apparently,” Liam shrugged and looked at her, concern in his eyes. “How are you holding up?”

Her shoulders slumped and she walked over and sat beside him. Resting her forearms on her legs, she leaned forward, staring at the ground. She wondered how to answer. She was just tempted to just tell him. If there was anyone she felt comfortable enough talking about her issues with, it was him. But he didn’t deserve, or probably want, to be on the receiving end of her struggles.

“Fine.” She answered curtly, not really successfully either judging from his raised eyebrow.

He leaned forward, also looking ahead. “Is that right. Well…” he paused and gave the faintest of smiles. “You’re certainly handling it better than me when I first saw devastation on this scale.”

She looked over at him. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“This might take a few minutes,” Liam warned her. “Get comfortable.” Clearing his throat, he began.

“This was after I’d recently joined the counter-intelligence unit,” he started. “I’d been on several missions against the Caliphate. All successes and only one person had died, though I hadn’t known her well.” His tone turned somber. “I became…well, overconfident isn’t the right word, but… _comfortable_. Our battles were clear cut. Our side was the good guys and the terrorists were bad. We both shot at each other and I believed our war would only involve us.”

Abby was silent as his eyes became unfocused as he continued. “Then one day we were sent into a small town in the Ukraine. We’d received word of a planned attack, but we arrived too late. The Caliphate had gassed the town. Corpses littered the street by the hundreds. I stepped over the corpses of more children than I care to remember.”

Abby shuddered. “That sounds horrible.”

“It was,” Liam agreed. “Gave me nightmares for weeks. I just considered it part of the job and tried to fight through it. I thought displaying any kind of weakness was unacceptable in a soldier, especially a CT agent.”

Abby listened with rapt attention as he continued haltingly. “But I did eventually learn something from this. What happened to me, and what you’re likely going through now, is normal. It isn’t weakness, it’s just a natural human response. The super-soldiers in the books and in movies rarely exist in real life. The best thing to do is to just…let it out. Don’t try to suppress it otherwise it’ll never leave you.”

She didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t have said anything more helpful to her. “Ok, I lied,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m not fine at all.”

“I suspected as much,” he answered softly. “Very few people can walk away from what happened unscathed.”

“Did you keep seeing them?” she asked as her vision blurred. “All the bodies, the children and families and wonder if you could have done _something_?”

“I did,” he told her. “Every day I would see them. I initially pushed them out by focusing on my job as much as possible to an unhealthy degree. It all built up over a period of time. I thought I was getting over it until one day I just…snapped.” he waved his hand for emphasis. “I broke down, it was frankly terrible and embarrassing and I was taken off active duty for a while. But in retrospect, it was what I needed.”

He looked into her watery eyes. “So whatever you’re feeling, don’t hold it in. Let it out now.”

She let out a half-chuckle, half-sob. “You know I’m going to be crying for a while.”

He took her hand. “Go ahead. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

She nodded and shoulders shaking, let out all the emotions she’d built up inside her in a flood of tears. Clenching his hand, she leaned into his shoulder and cried silently into it while he held her. They stayed that way until she could cry no more.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

There was a subdued atmosphere in the Mess Hall. The soldiers inside it huddled in groups of two or three talking quietly. Some were just sitting quietly and alone, lost in their own thoughts. Mira scanned the room and wasn’t surprised to see Luke as one of those people. He looked pretty terrible, his blonde hair unkempt, bloodshot eyes unfocused, and what looked like an untouched bottle of beer was setting on the table by him.

She wiggled the fingers of her right hand in a reassurance that her arm had been returned to full functionality. Abby had fixed her up quickly before moving to Patricia and appeared to have done a commendable job. It was odd, having no feeling in her arm when being shot. She could see the gaping wound and blood pouring out, but unable to sense it.

It was similar to what she imagined a prosthetic to be. When it worked, it could perform all the necessary functions without fear of pain. When it didn’t it was just a dead weight. She rolled her shoulders, just satisfied that everything was working again. Although ‘satisfied’ was probably not the best word to use right now given the situation.

 She hesitated before taking a step forward. She’d come here for a reason; to speak with Luke as he was undoubtable not doing well. But now she didn’t even know how to approach it. She hadn’t gone out of her way to… she paused, in thought. _Comfort_ was the wrong word, but _support_ someone in years. Not that she’d had great interpersonal skills before, but the time she’d deliberately cut herself off from people had the effect of decaying what little skill she had.

But despite her efforts of isolation, she actually _cared_ about Luke. The most telling sign was after seeing his shell shocked face, she’d wanted to do _something_ to help him. And once she acknowledged that she _did_ care about him she was…not scared, but _uncomfortable._

This shouldn’t have happened and went against everything she’d tried to shield herself from. She’d seen the consequences of attachment and was walking down the same road knowing what would happen.

But she was worryingly caring about that less and less.

She shook her head and began walking forward. She’d fought her own internal battle before coming here and wouldn’t stop now. Making sure she was in his line of sight, so as not to startle him, she took a seat beside him on the bench.

He didn’t acknowledge her at first, just staring ahead, his forearms and fists resting on the table. She didn’t say anything either, she’d let him initiate the conversation. Instead she placed a gloved hand over his own clenched one. Sometimes human contact was all that was needed.

He sighed and grabbed the bottle. “I don’t even like this stuff. Shows how far I’ve fallen, huh?”

“Not necessarily,” she answered in understanding. “You just want to forget.”

He snorted. “Even then. It’s not like it’s going to give me amnesia. I’ll remember everything eventually.” He took a sip and made a face of disgust. “Now I remember why I hate this stuff.”

She reached over and took the bottle from his hand and he released it without any resistance. “Then don’t drink it.” She told him setting it off to the side.

He slumped. “Yeah. Probably a good idea.”

She was silent. Unsure what to say. “I’m sorry.” She finally told him softly. “This must be difficult for you.”

He snorted. “Well, yeah. What happened down there…it wasn’t exactly fun.”

“Losing friends isn’t.” She agreed.

“Doubly when said friend comes back to life and you have to kill him yourself.”

Few things gave her pause, but what she’d heard of the corpses coming back to life had qualified as such. The aliens continued to be abominations to the natural order of things. Having ordered soldiers under her command to certain death before, she had some inkling of how he might be feeling.

“I understand.” She told him.

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “I suppose you would,” he sighed and looked ahead. “It’s only going to get worse, isn’t it?”

She pursed her lips. “Probably.”

He was silent as he stared into space. “It’s funny how personal something can get when something you care about is attacked,” he shook his head. “I mean, all I’ve wanted to do is destroy the aliens, but after the attack…it hasn’t left my mind. It feels surreal, like this shouldn’t be happening…” He trailed off, but she knew full well what he was talking about.

“It’s similar to what drove me to join the Mossad,” she told him, softly. “For a long time my country was continuously under the threat of attack. It wasn’t anything major, but bombings, suicidal attacks and missile strikes were common. Palestine, Iran, the Caliphate, the perpetrators were numerous and I just wanted to do _something_ to stop it forever.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t imagine what it was like growing up in a place like that.”

She sighed. “Normal. It was part of my life ever since I could remember. When I was younger I’d wondered how one single attack in the western countries could shock them so much when it was not an uncommon occurrence for me.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to say I got _used_ to it….but I wasn’t surprised when it happened.”

“Desensitization,” Luke muttered. “It happened during the war. By the end, barely anyone batted an eye when the remaining Caliphate leaders were executed by the Commander. Everyone was just relieved it was over.”

Mira looked forward. “I will say that it gets easier as your mind adapts.”

He let out a sharp chuckle. “That’s what I’m afraid of. That I’ll just think of an event like this as another atrocity in a long list committed by the aliens. Oh sure, I’ll be enraged by it and hate them even more. But I’ll just…accept it as the way things are. That doesn’t feel right. It shouldn’t be that way.”

She glanced over at his distraught face. “Then don’t. Remember how you feel now and recall that fury whenever the aliens do something like this again. Use it as motivation after every defeat we receive. Use your anger, but don’t let it control how you act.”

He glanced at her, a wry smile on his face. “And that works for you?”

She shrugged. “At one point in my life it did. But the best word to describe my emotions now is…” she scowled as she trailed off. “Numb. Yes, that fits. I don’t feel emotions like I used to. I don’t view an attack like this through the lens of atrocities committed, but instead from a more practical standpoint. I see the bodies lying on the streets and know I _should_ feel something…but I don’t.”

She paused, trying to think of what to say next. “I have shadows of the emotions, enough to tell me what I _should_ be feeling, but it’s never enough to legitimately make me feel something. It’s what made me one of the most effective agents of the Kidon. The emotions others go through, anger, fear, guilt, they don’t exist in me.”

“So what, you’re saying you don’t feel anything?” Luke asked skeptically. “Because I don’t think that’s true.”

“I don’t know…” she admitted slowly. “I thought I had killed emotions inside me for good. But recently, it’s been difficult to keep believing that.”

“So what changed?” Luke asked, turning to her. At least he wasn’t focused on the attack. But she still hesitated, not sure if she should tell him. But he’d likely figure it out sooner anyway. Besides, there was a part of her that wanted to tell him.

“You did.” She told him honestly. His eyes widened in surprise.

“ _Me_?” he repeated incredulously. “Uh, explain?”

She scowled. “Mostly because of your continuous insistence on talking to me. What I show people is very calculated. I carry and convey myself in such a way as to put people off and maintain a clear distinction between me and them. But instead accepting that I was a hardline person, you instead actually tried to get to know me.”

She continued, staring ahead as he looked at her attentively. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she continued, more to herself than him. “I tolerated your questions because I believed sharing them was harmless and would build something of a professional bond between us. Something I deemed acceptable.”

“I considered cutting you off altogether,” she admitted to him after a few seconds of silence. “After a while I realized that I’d actually missed genuine human interaction. And you were the only one who provided that to me. I actually began to enjoy our conversations, regardless of our differences of opinion. I should have cut you off, but I didn’t want to. I _don’t_ want to….”

She trailed off. “Despite how much I’ve tried, you’re important to me. You’re my friend. The one thing I promised myself would never happen again has and I’m not sure what to do about it.”

He was silent once she finished, then let out an awkward cough. “Um…wow. Sorry, I don’t know how to quite answer that. But I’m extremely glad that you consider me a friend. I feel the same way.”

“Are you surprised?” She asked, looking over at him.

“A bit,” he admitted. “Not that you _did_ consider me a friend, but that you told me.”

She shrugged. “You’re not an idiot. I assume you would have figured it out sooner or later. Besides which, I dislike avoiding inconvenient truths.”

He gave her a weary smirk. “Thanks.”

She winced. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she began when he raised a hand.

“No offense taken, Mira.” He told her softly. “I know what you meant. It means a lot to me, especially now.”

She leaned in. “I promise you this: If Germany falls to the aliens, I will fight to my last breath with you to retake it.”

He shifted the hand she’d been holding until he grasped it as well. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said sincerely. “And should anything happen to Israel, I will do the same.”

She inclined her head. Objectively, she knew he could do very little in the event that happened. But it mattered to her that he’d said it. They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Thank you for this,” Luke told her. “I needed it. It was good to hear.”

“I would say it wasn’t a problem,” she answered. “But honestly, I’m not very good at it.”

He appraised her, some spark of amusement in his eyes. “I’d disagree with that. You’re just more blunt than most. I like it.”

She snorted in amusement. “I could name several who would disagree.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded. “But they don’t know like I do.”

“No,” she agreed, looking into his eyes. “They certainly do not.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room._

The doors to the Situation Room hissed open and the Commander entered, flanked by Van Doorn on his left and hands clasped behind his back. The rest of the Internal Council was already there.

“General Van Doorn,” Bradford greeted, approaching him. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Same to you...” he responded, then paused when the Commander remembered he hadn’t met them.

“Quick introductions,” he said. “Central Officer John Bradford,” he motioned to Shen and Vahlen. “Raymond Shen and Moira Vahlen, Heads of XCOM Engineering and Research and Development respectively.” He finished motioning at Zhang. “Shaojie Zhang, Head of XCOM Intelligence.”

Van Doorn blinked at that. “Zhang…” he mused, as he appraised him. “I’ve heard the name. Have we met before?”

“No.” Zhang stated flatly.

Van Doorn didn’t seem to really feel the need to press. “A pleasure to meet you all.”

“The feeling in mutual,” Shen answered respectfully. “It’s an honor.”

“We can all feel honored later,” the Commander interrupted, striding over to the screen. “But for the moment, the Council wishes to speak to us.”

“I believe they wanted you specifically,” Bradford corrected.

The Commander turned to him. “They will get me,” he answered slowly. “But perhaps they’ll give a more honest assessment if others are listening.”

“Be that as it may,” Zhang interjected. “I’ll will stand to the side. My presence would not improve the situation.”

“I’ll do the same,” Van Doorn added. “I’d like to listen before joining in.”

The Commander nodded at them. “Very well.”

Flanked by Vahlen at his right, Shen on his left and Bradford behind him he gave the order. “Set up a link.”

“Establishing,” Bradford immediately answered as he tapped on his tablet. “Coming in now.”

The screen flashed and the familiar image of a figure silhouetted by harsh blue light appeared on the screen. With a resigned dismay, the Commander recognized he was dealing with the female Speaker. Damn. Well, at least he knew what to expect from her.

Still he inclined his head respectively. “Speaker, a pleasure as always.”

 _“Commander,”_ she greeted in an icy tone. _“The Council is…displeased…with this recent turn of events.”_

Well, no beating around the bush. “I believe everyone feels this way,” he answered. “What happened was a tragedy.”

 _“A tragedy caused by your inability to effectively combat the alien threat.”_ The Speaker stated. He could swear he could detect a smugness in her tone through the synthesized distortion. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vahlen tense and he preemptively raised a hand to cut her off from interrupting.

Calm. That was the best way to handle her. “With all due respect Speaker,” he answered neutrally. “There was very little XCOM or I could do.”

 _“You were appointed to this position for the sole purpose of preventing something like this from occurring,”_ she continued, unabated. _“Your failure to do so has left the Council…questioning…your competence.”_

“Speaker, that is simply incorrect,” Bradford broke in. “This was a defeat, for sure, but to call into question the competence of the Commander is not an accurate assessment. XCOM has complete multiple _successful_ operations against the aliens under his command.”

The Commander looked back at Bradford and gave him a brief nod of thanks. “Speaker, as I have no doubt the Council is aware of the realities of war, defeats happen.” He paused for effect. “Setbacks occur. We do everything to prevent them, but they still will happen. If the Council expects only victories, I’m afraid they will be hard pressed to find someone who can actually achieve those expectations.”

 _“We accept that defeats happen,”_ the Speaker answered, her tone slightly dialed back. _“But there is a difference between a failed UFO assault and the destruction of a major city. There is a difference between ten soldiers lives lost and ten thousand civilians lost. There is a difference between an internal defeat and one on display for the world.”_

The Commander internally sighed. This was going about as well as he expected. “Speaker,” he explained wearily. “The situation in Germany was engineered. This was the culmination of a series of events that had been building for weeks. The aliens simply took advantage of the chaos and destroyed an already destabilized country. The only thing that could have possibly prevented this from happening was a concerted German effort to bring the populace under control.”

 _“Assigning blame does not encourage the Council.”_ The Speaker stated icily.

He frowned and struggled to keep a neutral tone. “Speaker, there is a difference between assigning blame and stating facts. We sent the Council what we gathered about the German situation. We have evidence of the organization known as EXALT directly influenced and inflated panic levels in the populace.”

 _“The Council does not approve of you working outside your jurisdiction,”_ The Speaker stated in an infuriating superior tone. _“And as you lack a proper Intelligence division, any information you gather cannot be sufficiently verified.”_

Right. He actually _hadn’t_ told anyone on the Council about XCOM Intelligence for a few reasons and was now very glad of that fact. He thought he heard Zhang chuckling, but it was so low he might have imagined it. One reason was that he suspected the Council would have…issues…with Zhang leading it and another was that he preferred keeping a tool the Council didn’t know existed.

Very well, if the Speaker wanted to play that card than he had some questions for her. With a faint smile on his lips he addressed her again. “If not my jurisdiction, than whose?”

 _“All internal and external disputes within countries are the jurisdiction of the United Nations,”_ She stated in her superior tone.

Excellent. He was about to speak when Vahlen took the initiative. “If that was the case,” Vahlen demanded. “Then where were _you_ when the riots started? Are your people so incompetent that you could do _nothing_?”

He could practically feel the Speakers annoyance. _“Please tell your…woman…to refrain from speaking about matters of which she has no knowledge of.”_

His eyes widened and he considered cutting the line right there and then. He raised a hand to stop Vahlen form retorting as he tried to think of some way to diplomatically resolve this. Though he was slowly losing the will to continue doing so. “Speaker,” he bit out. “ _Chief Scientist_ Vahlen has been a part of every major tactical and strategy meeting we’ve had. She is just as qualified as me to speak and her question is a valid one.”

He glared at the screen, hoping his eyes contained the fury his words would not. “If the situation in Germany was “outside my jurisdiction” and instead was yours, it would follow that the fall of Germany was the fault of the Council, _not_ XCOM.”

The figure sat back, he got the impression she was torn between surprise and indignation. _“You continue to assume the two events are connected. The Council does not believe this is the case.”_

This was ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous. “Then tell me, Speaker, what _should_ I have done?”

_“Excuse me?”_

“Tell me,” he almost spat. “If by some miracle the destabilization of Germany and the Hamburg attack were _not_ connected, how should I have stopped it?”

 _“I am not a military tactician,”_ She answered.

“That’s apparent.” Bradford muttered.

 _“But the Council employs people who are.”_ She finished.

“Then listen to me,” the Commander implored, trying one last time at diplomacy. “You may have a personal dislike of me but that shouldn’t prevent you from looking at facts. If you have some other explanation for this than please tell me.”

The Speaker shook her head. _“That does not change the fact that you failed to prevent this attack, Commander.”_

“And just what would have happened had we _not_ intervened?” Vahlen snapped, eyes blazing. “XCOM _saved_ the city from utter destruction!”

_“You have seen the casualties Mrs.…Vahlen…I do not think XCOM ‘saved’ anything.”_

“We lost people saving that city,” the Commander shot back. “You could respect their sacrifice at least. Or are soldiers less important than civilians?”

 _“Soldiers are expected to die in battle,”_ She responded noncommittally. _“The civilians had no choice.”_

He was legitimately stunned.

Judging from the sharp intakes of breath around him everyone else felt the same.

“Commander,” Bradford muttered to him, venom in his tone. “I recommend we terminate this conversation. It is clearly not a productive one.”

“Not yet,” he answered back quietly. “I want to see how far she’ll go.”

“I’m glad we have a… _thorough_ …understanding of your position,” the Commander stated, returning his attention to her, his tone artificially cheer. “While this has been such an _enlightening_ conversation, do you have anything else to discuss?”

The Speaker leaned forward. _“Germany has withdrawn from the Council.”_

Vahlen started. “What?” She demanded. “We are the only defense against the aliens!”

 _“Unfortunately, the German government feels otherwise,”_ the Speaker continued. _“Thanks to your commander’s…failure…they feel that establishing relations with the aliens is a better step to ensure the survival of our species.”_

“That’s ludicrous.” Bradford exclaimed. “They can’t honestly expect that to happen!”

 _“They have cut off all contact with the Council,”_ the Speaker continued. _“They will be making a formal statement later today in an attempt to calm the populace.”_

He heard Van Doorn muttering something to Bradford but didn’t pay close attention. “Unfortunate,” the Commander muttered, thinking furiously. “But we’ll have to watch Germany for alien influence-“

 _“After you failed to prevent this attack in the first place, do you honestly think you’ll be allowed to investigate further?”_ She demanded. _“The United Nations will fix what you cannot.”_

“Ask her if Battalion 2207 will be deployed?” Bradford told him. The Commander frowned but didn’t question it now. He hoped it actually meant something.  

“If that is the case, Speaker,” he began. “Will Battalion 2207 be deployed in response?”

She cocked her head. _“How do you know that unit?”_

He sighed, he hoped that answer meant something. “I’m good at my job. Just answer the question.”

_“They will only be deployed if we deem it sufficient.”_

Great. That was a pointless exchange. He was about to speak when he heard footsteps and looked over to see the General walk into the shot. “Apologies for hijacking this… _enlightening_ … conversation,” he told him as he turned to face the screen. “But I think I should say something.”

For the first time, the Speaker seemed surprised and if her tone was any indication, _nervous_. _“General Van Doorn. I was…unaware…you were present.”_

“Irene Adilah,” he stated smugly. “I’d wondered where you’d disappeared to. But you haven’t changed a bit.”

_“How did you-“_

“There are only five people who knew the existence of that particular unit,” he explained with a smile. “And only one of them was a woman. A woman who I’ve dealt with _many_ times before.”

 _“General,”_ the Speaker answered almost frantically. _“You have only just arrived, the situation here is not as…unreasonable…as it appears.”_

“Is that right?” he demanded skeptically, his face hardening. “Because to me that’s _exactly_ what it appears to be. So if you won’t listen to him, perhaps you’ll listen to me. What happened was not the Commander’s fault. True, I haven’t been here long but I was on the ground. I fought alongside XCOM to save the city.”

He began pacing. “I am going to assume you haven’t looked at the intelligence reports _I’ve_ been sending you from Joint Intelligence, since they back up everything the Commander is saying. The situation in Germany was engineered, regardless of what lies you’ve been told. I can’t say anything about this “EXALT”, but I can say that anyone who believes they are not connected is an idiot and if you give me names, I will ensure they never work in a military capacity again.”

He paused and glared at the fidgeting Speaker. “You owe Dr. Vahlen an answer for her question as well. I personally voiced my ideas about what we should do to bring Germany back to order _diplomatically_ and _safely_. In a way that the sovereignty of the country would be preserved. NATO was willing, but we were blocked. So Speaker, do you have an explanation?”

The Speaker paused before continuing. _“The situation is…delicate.”_

 “Explain.”

_“I cannot. Not in front of the Commander.”_

Van Doorn’s eyes flashed. “I am the General of NATO’s Army. Consider this official authorization to declassify anything you have to say in front of these people.”

 _“It’s not that simple,”_ she insisted. _“It will be explained once you return.”_

Van Doorn shook his head. “No.”

She sat back. _“What?”_

“I will not be returning.” Everyone looked at him in surprise. “Your Council has continuously refused to involve NATO in defending against the aliens,” Van Doorn continued, his tone veiled in anger. “I will not sit out while I can do something about it.”

_“General, I can order you back-“_

“Then consider this my resignation.” He declared. “I’ve sent all the papers necessary and recommended a replacement. And if you think you can force me to return, I’m sure the soldiers will appreciate you believing that their only purpose is to die in battle.” He looked back at the Commander. “That’s all I wanted to say. Carry on.” He stepped back and the Commander didn’t bother to hide his satisfied smile.

“We will deal with the situation as we always have,” he told the stunned woman. “ _We_ will do what the United Nations will not. You can cast blame on me all you want, but we will continue to defend humanity, as is our directive.”

He looked at Bradford. “Cut the line.”

His lips curled into a grin. “With pleasure, Commander.”

With a flash the screen went black. Van Doorn sighed in satisfaction. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” Growing more serious he addressed them. “Apologies for springing that on you without warning, but I saw an opportunity and took it.”

The Commander smiled, at least something good had come out of this situation. “You still want to join us,” he asked to confirm. “After that?”

“Of course,” he answered without hesitation. “I wouldn’t expect a place _here_ of course, but I want to be part of this.”

The Commander looked around. “I think it would be an incredible mistake to refuse to allow a general of your experience on this Council. Anyone disagree?”

Everyone shook their head in agreement. The Commander looked at the General. “Welcome to XCOM, Tactical Advisor Van Doorn.” Then saluted him. The General returned with his own salute.

“I look forward to working with you,” he told him.

The Commander walked over to the holotable. “Then let’s get started. Germany has withdrawn from the Council. Unfortunate, but that was a possibility. One that we have a plan in place to deal with.”

As the other gathered around he looked at each of them. “You know what we have to do. I propose we activate the Hades Contingency.”

Van Doorn frowned. “Explain.”

“I’ll forward you the complete list,” he told him. “Suffice to say that the Hades Contingency specifically deals with the withdrawal of a Council nation, or any nation surrendering to the aliens.”

“It’s overkill at this point,” Shen protested. “The people have suffered enough. Could we just utilize the regime change?”

“No.” The Commander stated grimly. “That is only one part. The people need to be sufficiently… _motivated_ …against the aliens.”

“The people are already angry.” Bradford noted.

“The people are _afraid_ ,” The Commander corrected. “We need to turn that fear to anger, and that anger to action.”

“I hate to do this during the first meeting,” Van Doorn interrupted. “But I’ll abstain from this vote since this has been set up well before my arrival.”

“Then we do that.” The Commander stated, looking around. “I vote we enact it fully.”

“I agree.” Zhang nodded, not really surprising.

“I say no,” Shen said, crossing his arms. “The regime change will be enough.”

“I agree with Shen,” Bradford nodded towards the engineer.

Van Doorn’s eyes widened at the word’s ‘regime change’ but didn’t interrupt.

The Commander looked at Vahlen. “Moira?”

She looked down. “The aliens need to pay for this,” she muttered. “We need to do everything possible to eradicate them. Even if it means sacrificing what we care about.” She looked at him, her bloodshot eyes filled with sadness, but also with resolve. “I’m with you Commander.”

He looked at the holotable. “Then it’s settled.” He looked at Zhang. “Tell your people the Hades Contingency is active.”

Zhang nodded. “Yes, Commander.”

* * *

 

Supplementary Material

* * *

 

The Hades Contingency

(RESTRICTED TO INTERNAL COUNCIL)

PREFACE: In the event that a country withdraws from the Council, or an unaffiliated country allies with the aliens:

  1. The country in question is now considered enemy territory and shall be treated as such until the Hades Contingency is no longer in effect.
  2. The country in question shall receive no aid from XCOM, regardless of the circumstances or need until: 
    1. The alliance with the aliens is broken.
    2. The country rejoins the Council or answers directly to XCOM.



SCENARIO 1: In the event that:

  1. The government and leadership of the country in question is friendly or supportive of XCOM.
  2. The military of the country in question is hostile or aggressive against XCOM, are in support of the aliens and have taken control of the country.



The following outline will be executed:

PHASE 1: EXTRACTION OF GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS:

  1. The Commander will make contact with the head of the leadership body and supporting council and inform them of the impending extraction.
  2. A squad of XCOM soldiers will enter and extract the leading officials and return them to the Citadel. Force against hostiles is authorized.



PHASE 2: DENIAL OF ENEMY ARMED FORCES AND RESOURCES:

  1. On order of the Commander, XCOM Intelligence will work to systematically eliminate key military personnel with extreme prejudice.
  2. XCOM Intelligence will work to disable scanners and advanced equipment in major military installations and introduce contagions and poisons to thin the enemy force.
  3. After anti-air and scanner equipment is disabled or destroyed, Raven fighters will launch missiles on all known military installations.
  4. As the military becomes more disorganized, XCOM operatives disguised as the respective soldiers will perform acts of terror on the populace in the name of the “aliens” further eroding public support and prompting a wave of anti-alien sentiment.
  5. Civilian infrastructure will be targeted to reduce the grip the military has on the populace. Power grids, water and emergency services will be disabled and denied. Public transportation will be targeted to ensure that any military response is delayed.



PHASE 3: RESTORATION OF THE PREVIOUS GOVERNMENT

  1. Once the Internal Council has judged that the military is in complete disarray. XCOM will deploy to retake control of the country. Once the capital is taken, the extracted government officials will retake control and renounce any affiliation to the aliens and publicly state their support for XCOM.



NOTE: Until full control of the military is restored, XCOM soldiers will be stationed in the country to prevent another uprising.

NOTE 2: The country in question will be given the choice of rejoining the Council (If previously joined) or working with XCOM directly.

SCENARIO 2: In the event that:

  1. The government and leadership of the country in question is hostile or in support of the aliens.
  2. The military of the country in question is friendly and supportive of XCOM.



The following outline will be executed:

PHASE 1: COMMUNICATION AND PLANNING:

  1. The Commander will make contact with the leading military figure to discuss the alien threat and possible solutions. Once an agreement has been reached, the leading military figure will prepare for the execution of the Hades Contingency.
  2. Once the government or leadership of the country in question swears loyalty or announces an alliance with the aliens, the leading military figure will issue a public statement condemning the move and then will withdraw all forces from the country.



PHASE 2: PREPARATIONS FOR TAKEOVER:

  1. XCOM Intelligence will execute acts of terror against the populace using alien weapons and equipment to turn the public against the current government and usher in a wave of anti-alien sentiment. Infrastructure, public buildings and prominent civilians will be disabled, destroyed, ruined, wounded or killed as needed.
  2. The current heads of government will be removed or captured by XCOM Intelligence operatives, effectively clearing the way for a military takeover.



PHASE 3: TAKEOVER:

  1. The military will re-enter the country and establish order over the populace. With the removal of the government, the transition will hopefully be smooth.
  2. Until the populace is brought under control, the military will retain complete control of the country with the backing of XCOM.
  3. Once order has been restored, the de-facto leader will publically condemn the aliens and publically support XCOM, or denounce any alien cooperation or alliance.



NOTE: Unless otherwise stated, the military will work directly with XCOM.

NOTE 2: It will be made clear to the de-facto leader that military occupation is only temporary and elections must be held within the year unless the alien threat is too high. This exception can only be made by the Commander.

  1. If the de-facto leader does not comply, he or she will be removed and the country will temporarily be taken control of by XCOM until a new leader is chosen or elected.



SCENARIO 3: In the event that:

  1. The military of the country in question is hostile or aggressive against XCOM, are in support of the aliens, and have taken control of the country.
  2. The government and leadership of the country in question is hostile or in support of the aliens.



The following outline will be executed:

PHASE 1: COMMUNICATION AND PLANNING:

  1. Under the direction of XCOM Intelligence and the Commander, attempts will be made to identify and contact members of the government and military who do not support, or are actively against the current regime.
  2. Once contact has been established, XCOM will work with the selected person(s) to prepare for the leadership change and to make it proceed as smooth as possible. 
    1. In the event that no suitable leader is found, XCOM will assume control of the country until such a person is chosen.



PHASE 2: INFILTRATON AND SABOTAGE:

  1. XCOM Intelligence will identify the weak points in the country including, structural, leadership, economic and ideological weaknesses. Once the points have been established, agents will be deployed to sabotage, manipulate, exploit and assassinate said points.
  2. Once every agent necessary is in place, they will go into a sleeper state, only activating once the contingency has been activated. While they wait, full reports and reconnaissance will continue as normal.



PHASE 3: TAKEOVER

  1. XCOM Intelligence will execute their instructions, effectively crippling the military, economy, government and populace. Once the chaos is deemed sufficient, the agents will join XCOM military forces and assist in the takeover.
  2. Two XCOM squads (More will be added if required) will be deployed to the capital with the intention of subduing the governing body. The leadership will be taken into custody, or killed if they provide resistance.
  3. Once the capital is secure, XCOM Analysis and Communications will assume control of the country’s media and issue a statement addressing the situation while also ordering the military to stand down. 
    1. Note at this time, any figures to be put into leadership positions will be introduced now.
    2. If the military refuses to back down, the Zeus Contingency will be enacted on all military bases. If they still do not surrender and accept the new leadership, XCOM Intelligence will assassinate prominent military figures and XCOM military forces will take control of the central military staging area.
  4. Once all parts of the country have been brought under control, XCOM will maintain a small presence in the country to be vigilant for alien activity as well as watch the leadership for signs of corruption and abuse of power. 
    1. If the new leadership takes advantage of their new authority, they will be removed from power and elections will be held within six months while XCOM retains control of the government.



NOTICE 1: UNITED NATIONS INTERVENTION: United Nations forces are to be treated as a neutral party. In the event that the United Nations attempts to intervene in any capacity the following outline will be exercised:

  1. United Nations forces are not to be engaged unless they act against XCOM first. Breaking this will result in the offending soldier being dismissed and prosecuted.
  2. The highest ranking XCOM operative is authorized to explain to the ranking UN officer the situation, as well as warning them to stay away.
  3. All UN diplomats are to be directed to Citadel Command.



NOTICE 2: THANTOS CONTINGENCY REDUNDENCY: As the country is considered hostile if the Hades Contingency is activated, the Thanatos Contingency is automatically in effect until the country is secured.

NOTICE 3: AUTHORIZATION: Members of XCOM Analysis and Communication, XCOM Engineering, XCOM Research and Development and XCOM Intelligence are not authorized to enact the Hades Contingency under any circumstances. The following are authorized:

  1. The Commander of XCOM.
  2. XCOM Intelligence Director Shaojie Zhang
  3. XCOM Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn



Note 1: In the event that the above individuals are unavailable, incapacitated or dead, the following members are authorized to enact the Hades Contingency in the following order:

  1. Head of XCOM Research and Development, Dr. Moira Vahlen
  2. Central Officer of XCOM Analysis and Communications, John Bradford (If Dr. Vahlen is unavailable)
  3. Head of XCOM Engineering, Dr. Raymond Shen (If Central Officer Bradford is unavailable)



NOTICE 4: ENACTMENT: The Hades Contingency can only be enacted if the majority of the Internal Council agrees to do so. In the event of an evenly split vote, the decision will be made by the Commander of XCOM. Failure to obtain a majority will result in the Hades Contingency being removed from consideration unless brought up at a later time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 


	24. The Hades Contingency

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The Internal Council stood in front of the screen as they waited for the German Chancellor to make his speech. The Commander had made it clear: Nothing would happen until the speech was given so the populace could see the repercussions of such a position soon after.

It was times like this the Commander wished that he was better at picking up languages. He would have to rely on Vahlen and Van Doorn, both German speakers, to understand the speech. The only other language he knew aside from English was Arabic, and only out of necessity. Not to mention he’d not exactly been good at speaking it either, he was a much better listener.

He glanced around, noting their somber and resigned faces and felt the same. Things were going to get much worse before they got better.

At least there was a sizable crowd in attendance. The news station crews weren’t really focusing on them, but from the brief shots, he could make a decent estimate.

The Commander glanced down, checking the time on his watch. “Five minutes late.”

Vahlen shook his head. “Normal. This man has a dramatic flair,” her tone turned dark. “Might explain why he surrendered so quickly. Actors get scared when faced with reality.”

“Quiet,” Zhang interrupted. “He’s coming out.”

German Chancellor Armian Blikz flanked by two BND agents, walked out onto the ornamented stage. There was a brief smattering of applause, though that was likely only out of respect. The suited and proud man raised a hand to cut it off and slowly lowered his hands until they rested on the podium.

His face grave and aging, he began addressing the silent crowd.

“My fellow countryman,” Vahlen translated for them. “There is very little I can say that will ease the pain you feel at this unjust attack. We have all lost friends in family members, I am not excluded.”

He paused, looked down as he allowed a moment of silence. Vahlen had been right, he wasn’t a bad actor. The sadness in in face and eyes seemed genuine and as he raised his head, the tone turned sorrowful as he continued speaking with Vahlen translating.

“Over the past few hours I have received numerous requests to begin attacks on this unknown alien force. I have heard calls of vengeance from my military advisors. At first I wanted nothing more than to punish them…” he trailed off as his gaze swept across the crowd.

“But I have also learned that they were pushed to this point. I have recently learned that this alien encounter is only one in a long number that have been silenced and covered up by none other than the United Nations!” The sorrow in his face hardened as his tone harsh, his voice veiled in anger.

“Instead of greeting this new species, they decided to attack,” he declared. “Without any attempt at negotiation or trying to learn about them. In combating this supposed “threat” they have undermined the very principles for which they stand for. Instead they created a military force with the explicit purpose of utterly defeating the aliens under the guise of “defense.””

The Commander pursed his lips. Since XCOM had assisted in saving Hamburg, their anonymity would only last so long. But it would have been better if the public’s first impression of them _not_ come from this man.

Stone-faced, Vahlen continued translating. “This force, known as XCOM, fights these aliens unprovoked whenever possible, destroying any attempt at reaching an understanding,” He lowered his voice and head, before raising them again with renewed vigor. “It was unfortunate that our great country was targeted, but I have taken the first step our so-called “leaders” have not. I have made contact with the aliens.”

There were several muffled gasps from the crowd. Everyone in the Internal Council frowned at that statement. If true, that was bad news all around.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Bradford asked, as he crossed his arms.

“Good question,” Zhang muttered as he scanned the man’s features, looking for clues of dishonesty. “He could be telling the truth, or it could be a ploy to calm the populace.”

“Quiet.” The Commander ordered as the Chancellor continued speaking.

“They have assured me that they did not come for war,” he continued, his tone growing more impassioned. “They have assured me that they will make reparations for the attack.”

“They’re lying.” The Commander muttered to no one in particular. “They’re playing him.”

“I call on every nation to reject war with these aliens and work to bring peace between our species.” The Chancellor declared. “Else we will do nothing but destroy each other. We will be sending whatever aid is needed to Hamburg and anyone who was hurt in this attack. But I implore the great people of this country not to give into whatever hate you feel now. Let us rise above this and emerge stronger than ever,” he raised his hand in the German salute to the crowd. “Thank you!”

With that he stepped back and waited. There was dead silence, and a few seconds later, he stepped off the podium. The crowd began to dissipate after that and the new stations began giving their commentary. The Commander shut off the screen.

“The reaction was very telling,” Van Doorn noted. “Certainly not supportive, but not opposed either.”

“Which means we can tip that balance easily,” The Commander answered grimly. “By openly admitting he had contacted the aliens, he’s giving us the advantage.”

“A few attacks will be sufficient,” Zhang agreed. “Even two or three will discredit him and turn the people against him and the aliens.”

The Commander tapped on the holotable and a 3D replica of the KMC, Germany’s largest military base and center of communications. “Once their communications are severed, we can begin.” He looked at Zhang. “Timeframe for your agents?”

“Maximum of one hour.”

He nodded. “Excellent.” He brought up a map of Germany and highlighted three cities.

“Berlin, Munich and Cologne,” he explained for them. “Those will be the catalysts. Over the past few weeks Zhang has had agents stationed in them and identified key figures in them. Once the main grids of these cities are out, that will no doubt draw out crowds in protests. Especially after that speech.”

“Thanks to Shen, we can disable the grids safely and efficiently,” Zhang told them, nodding at Shen in approval. The man didn’t look happy.

“Just make it quick,” He sighed. “And don’t kill anyone you don’t have to.”

“My agents will do what is necessary,” Zhang answered. “No more. No less.”

The Commander looked Zhang in the eye. “Are you certain your agents can do this?”

Zhang didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He nodded. “After the populace has been sufficiently agitated, I’ll contact Minister Habicht, or he’ll contact me and will make preparations for them to take the country. With the cabinet eliminated, he should have little trouble taking the capital.”

Van Doorn frowned. “Are you planning to kill _all_ of the cabinet?”

“My agents will capture several high-ranking members,” Zhang clarified. “But those are the only ones. If our agents have to take action, they will.”

The Commander wasn’t sure Van Doorn fully believed that answer, but he didn’t comment on it. Zhang knew full well that all members of the cabinet were to be executed aside from the president and Chancellor.

“Once our agents capture whoever they can,” the Commander continued. “They’ll be turned over to the German military.”

“I suggest we get started.” Bradford muttered. “The longer we wait the harder it’ll be.”

The Commander nodded at Zhang. “Give your people the green light.”

“Yes, Commander.”

***

_Germany, Berlin_

Naor Alter stood over the body of the electrician.

He’d live, but would be unconscious for at least a few hours. More than enough time for him to finish. All he needed was the uniform. With a practiced speed, he stripped the uniform off the man and donned it. Afterwards he tied up the man and gagged him. Someone would probably find him the next day. Whatever, the man hadn’t seen his face, so his fate was none of his concern.

He stepped out of the closet and adjusted his safety glasses and made a quick stop in the bathroom to adjust his appearance. Once he was in front of the mirror, he frowned as he adjusted his helmet and uniform.

It was a decent fit, enough to hide the silencer he carried as well as his twin blades and acid canister. At a distance, no one would ask questions. The only potential issue was his ethnicity. His weathered and dark brown skin stuck out in among the usually Caucasian workforce.

But he’d chosen his target well. The Israeli Mossad were experts in their craft and he was no exception. The man was a loner and appeared to have few friends from nearly a week of observation. It was unlikely they’d notice his disappearance for a few days, especially if they saw someone with his name walking around.

He checked his watch. Forty minutes. Director Zhang had given a timeframe of one hour and he was certain that could be fulfilled. Grabbing his pack filled with EMP charges and explosives, he left the bathroom and made his way to the security room.

The cameras had to be dealt with so he could make a clean escape, but he expected it wouldn’t take long. Once he reached the security room door, he set down his pack and pulled out a small EMP charge. Sticking it in his pocket, he rapped on the door.

“[Hey, need some help here!]” He called in German. A few seconds later the door opened and a young man answered, his curly brown hair framing his face.

“[What is it?”] he asked.

Naor pointed into the room. [“Can I speak to him?”]

The man turned around. [“No-urk!]” His words cut off into him attempting to breathe as Naor grabbed the man in a headlock and squeezed. The man made a vain attempt at fighting, feebly throwing his arms back in his general direction, but was ultimately no match for him. Gently setting the unconscious body to the ground. He entered and saw the other man, headset on, watching the cameras.

Far too easy. He repeated the same procedure with him and a few seconds later he was lying in his seat unconscious. He quickly bound and gagged the men, then set the EMP charge on top of the computers. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed their clearance cards and left the room. Ensuring the door was closed, he detonated the charge.

The sound of fizzling and popping reached his ears and he allowed himself a brief smile. He checked his watch. Thirty-one minutes. Grabbing his pack, he walked down towards the central grid. As expected, no one paid any attention to him, even dismissing the pack he was carrying.

Everyone just assumed he was following someone else’s instruction. Long ago he’d realized poise was important. Act with authority and very few will stop you. As he approached the central grid, he frowned as there were two security guards at the entrance. That would make things tricky, but not unmanageable.

He could try bluffing. If that failed, he would just kill them. The cameras were down, so he didn’t have that to worry about. The danger was someone stumbling into this situation and he’d be forced to kill them as well. While Director Zhang hadn’t explicitly _ordered_ him to keep the body count low, he’d asked him to do his best.

Peaceful way first. He approached the guards who frowned at his approach.

“[Maintenance on the grid,]” he told them, flashing his ID. “[Been some strange power fluctuations lately. They asked me to check them out.]”

Both guards looked at each other. “[We weren’t told anyone was coming.]” The right one said suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

Naor made a show of rolling his eyes. “[Duh, key word being “recently,”]” he tapped his helmet and smiled, addition some patronization to his tone. “[Keep up.]”

They were still unconvinced, but seemed to relax. “[Identification.]” He presented his ID which the leftmost one took.

The second one frowned as he scanned it. “[Only senior engineers can access this area,]” he told him, handing it back. “[You are not one.]”

He let out a sigh. “[I don’t know what to tell you, I was sent down here by my manager.]” He had one last gambit to try. He began turning away while speaking over his shoulder. “[Fine. But if Berlin loses power across the city, I’ll make sure everyone knows it was your fault.]”

He made it about three steps before he heard the call. “[Wait.]”

He smiled.

The guard didn’t look happy as he approached but pointed at the man beside him. “[Accompany him.]” The second guard nodded and they opened the door and they walked through. Once the door closed, he looked at the guard.

“[Sorry about this.]” He told him apologetically. The guard shrugged.

“[He’s by the book, nothing you can really do about-]” his eyes widened as he felt a steel blade in his throat. Choking on his blood, he tried to look down and raise his rifle only to collapse to his knees as Naor twisted the blade.

Unfortunate, but he was doomed the moment he stepped in here. Better to die now than possibly survive the upcoming explosion and die later. Cleaning the blood off the blade, he began walking around the mass of wires, grids and power stations. The schematics Zhang had given him told him the weak points of every system.

The power grid had to be destroyed for at least one day. So mostly EMP charges would be used for the major systems, and explosives for anything non-essential. Once he was satisfied with his work he checked the time.

Fifteen minutes.

Now to deal with the last guard. No witnesses.

He opened the door and shot a bullet into his brain with his pistol. Blood splattering the wall, the body of the man slumped to the ground, surprise written on his face. That problem solved, he dragged the body into the room and shut the door.

Satisfied that it was sufficiently closed, he began heading towards the exit. No one paid him any more attention as he walked through the building, nodding in greeting or ignoring him altogether. Once he exited the building, walked a few blocks down and sat down at a small open-air café. Crossing his legs, he pulled out the detonator.

There was unfortunately no dramatic explosion as he pressed the button, but the results were apparent soon enough. A few seconds later, the city became dark, lights going out in blocks. As darkness descended upon the city, Naor smiled.

Mission complete. He pressed the button on his wristband, giving Zhang the all-clear.

***

_Germany, KMC Command_

The mood on base was frustrated and slowly growing angry. Despite the impassioned speech from the Chancellor, the soldiers weren’t buying it. Thought to be fair, he’d done his own part in subtly increasing anti-alien sentiment across the base.

Mossad agent Avidan Baskin sat at the table in the mess hall, running through his plan now that the order had been given. His cover was solid, thanks to Zhang. A transferred communications specialist from Munster, he’d “officially” been part of the German military for six years.

When asked to join this XCOM Intelligence, he’d been skeptical, but was willing to do his part to fight against the alien threat as well as establishing Israeli influence where he could. But he had to admit, Director Zhang knew what he was doing. It was interesting how little Zhang seemed to care about his origin and potential clash of loyalties. But it did make sense. As long as he got the job done, there was little reason to question his motives.

Well, he’d known his mission ever since he’d arrived. At first it had seemed like an extreme assignment, even by Mossad standards, but given how things were playing out, it was fortunate he was here and that something like this had been thought of in the first place. To even consider manipulating the German military like this was borderline ludicrous, but after reading the Hades Contingency, he realized that terms like “ludicrous” and “impossible” didn’t apply to the Commander.

The mere fact that the Commander had the resolve to actually _write_ something like that, much less actually following through, impressed him. He looked up at the sound of footsteps and was joined at the table by another soldier. With her skin tone indicating her origins as English or German, most were surprised to learn her origins were anything but. That is, if she ever told them.

Her trimmed brown hair barely fell past her ears as she rested her arms across the table. Also a recent transfer, she’d also established herself as a reliable presence here.

No surprise, since she was also a Mossad agent.

“[We have one hour.]” She told him, her light tone understating the gravity of her words. It was nice to hear someone speak Hebrew, after several weeks of German.

He nodded. “[Then we should get started.]”

She inclined her head towards the door. “[I have the planes, power and security. You can handle communications?]”

He took a sip of his drink. “[Of course. We discussed this.]”

“[Just making sure.]”

He nodded and left the room without a word. The soldiers he walked by nodded at him as he went to the communications tower. He’d stashed a bunch of explosives and several canisters of synthesized alien material a few days after he’d arrived and placed them in a hard to reach area. Arriving there, he dug up the pack, opened it, and nodded to himself as the explosives still seemed fine.

Brushing the dirt off, he slung the pack over his back and approached the two-story tower. The trick wasn’t going to be so much _destroying_ the tower so much as _crippling_ it. Once the German military decided to take control of Berlin, communications would be essential and Director Zhang wanted it done in a way so as to have it fixed within one or two days.

So instead of targeting the massive tower, he’d instead targeted a much easier source, the power _to_ the tower. After that, the communications center itself. The tower was more important, so he didn’t need to do as much damage.

As he approached the guarded gate to the tower, he took out his ID to show to the guards. “[Maintenance,]” he told them. “[The tower’s acting up.]”

They took his ID, scanned it and waved him through. “[Go ahead.]”

Entering the area, he quickly located the power grid and placed several explosive charges on it. More than enough to blow it beyond repair. Next he took out the synthesized alien material. Someone from research had dubbed it the “symbiote,” and based on a demonstration, he could see why.

He was no chemist, but it was unnatural how quickly that stuff bound to anything it touched. Harmless as far as he could tell, it was distinctly alien in origin and would be sufficient to give ample evidence of alien sabotage. Several placed around the power grid would ensure that.

Dusting off his hands, he eyed the actual communications center. Unfortunately, he was going to have to kill the people inside. Or at least those in the actual communications room. Such was the life of an agent. Slinging the pack on his back, he began climbing the stairs into the gray cement building.

The hallways were narrower than the rest of the base, and far more utilitarian. Luckily he encountered no one as he walking into towards the room. He glanced up at the security camera and shrugged. His assignment wasn’t to worry about the cameras. That was hers.

Arriving at the door he tried opening it and, _surprise_ , it was locked. Pursing his lips, he pulled out his lock picking kit and within a minute, opened the door. Three communications officers sat with headsets, hands adjusting dials and switches. Pulling out his pistol, he quickly shot all three of them in the head.

As their bodies slumped onto their chairs and control boards, blood staining the equipment, he set his pack down and began setting charges at all the structural weak points, the corners. Eight should be sufficient to collapse this room. Pulling the bodies away from the boards, he began placing EMP charges on the unprotected devices for good measure. No sense taking chances.

Satisfied, he placed the last of the symbiote charges on the floor and ceiling. He frowned at the corpses. He was doubtful that their bodies would even be close to recognizable when the charges went off, but if they _were_ found, it might pose some questions.

Luckily, Zhang had prepared for that as well. Laying the bodies flat out on the floor, he pulled out a small vial of acid and poured a decent amount onto their faces where the bullet had entered. Plasma had left wounds similar to acid and fire burns, so this might be passed off as one upon initial inspection. Not to mention that the so-called “thin men” also employed some kind of acid.

Now for the final showpiece. He knelt down and placed a symbiote charge on the middlemost body. That would leave no doubt of who was behind this, in case the bodies were found. Standing up, he surveyed his handiwork and smiled. Excellent.

He flipped his wrist and pressed one button on his wristband. There were two small lights, one red, one green. Once they were both green, he would detonate. Closing the door behind him, he exited the building.

“[All finished”] He told the guards as he walked by, they nodded in approval and he made his way to a nice spot on the training area. Perfect to watch the fireworks. Patrols walked past him as he sat, waiting for the signal. She was cutting it awfully close.

The light flashed green. Without ceremony, he pulled out the detonator and pressed the button.

An explosion rocked the night. He watched in satisfaction as a fireball blew out from the communications building and with a creaking of strained supports and sounds of shattering of glass, the building imploded with a mighty crash and thud.

He glanced over to the tower and just saw smoke rising from the area. He smiled. Everything was going according to plan. The soldiers were running towards the building and shouting orders. Based on how some of them were trying to yell into their communications devices, it seemed the sabotage had been successful.

A new series of explosions rocked the airfield as six fighters exploded in massive fireballs. Soldiers froze in shock, hands gripping weapons, not sure where or who to fire at. From the central command building, several explosions rang out. Security, and main power if he remembered correctly.

As the lights went out across the base he appeared to have been right. The backup power would come online in a few minutes, but it would delay them for a while.

Long enough for the Hades Contingency to be completed without military interference.

Mission complete.

***

_Germany, Cologne_

Ruth Shira looked over at the man sharing the bed with her to ensure he was actually asleep. In a smooth motion, she swept her bare legs off the bed and rose, then began rustled through her clothes on the ground and grinned when she finally pulled out her blade.

Grasping the handle, she placed the tip on his right arm and applied just enough pressure to draw blood. Once barely a millimeter had passed the skin, she dragged the tip down a few inches, leaving a thin red trail behind. She glanced up at his sleeping face.

Nothing.

Excellent. With that concern taken care of, she reached for a napkin, cleaned the blade and got dressed. She’d have to take it off anyway once she was done with him so he wouldn’t grow suspicious. But she always worked better when she was wearing a bit more than her underwear.

She pulled out the small kit that had been given to her. That makeup artist Zhang had brought on knew her stuff and she hoped she could remember how to properly apply everything.

First things first. The neck applications were most important and she began applying the tattoos based on the thin men they’d recovered. She kept glanced at his face as she worked. She had to admit, he was one of her more attractive targets she’d had the pleasure of meeting, it was probably the beard. She’d always had a thing for those.

A shame he’d have to die. But the young activist Norman Adalard was exactly what they needed. Impassioned, emotional, easily manipulated and most importantly, predictable. Once she’d gotten his attention, he’d spent a few hours regaling her with his causes and why she should be a part of him.

It was almost disappointing how easy he was to play. But she wasn’t one of the Kidon’s best operatives for nothing. Well, what he lacked in obvious manipulation detection, he’d made up for once he’d taken her to his home. Thanks to the power suddenly going out, that had already caused him and his friends to angrily start planning yet _another_ protest. It was somewhat ridiculous how these people protested every. Single. Thing.

But in this case it was exactly why she wanted. Once they’d set up a time, she, pretending to be so taken by is activism, had asked to join. Which he accepted without any questions whatsoever. Shortsighted idiot.

Ok, that was harsh. But really, who was _that_ accepting of someone who they’d literally just met a few hours ago. Which was a rhetorical question, since the majority of the population was highly susceptible to the charms of the opposite sex, especially if said person was part of an intelligence organization who lied and tricked people for a living.

She’d spiked his drink after they’d decided the time. The drug had taken nearly four hours to take effect, but by her calculations, he’d be out for a solid eight hours. Which just so happened to be one hour before he was supposed to arrive at the rally. He’d be in such a rush to get there that he wouldn’t check himself.

And if he did, well, she’d give him some encouragement.

The neck tattoos done, she straightened up and surveyed her handiwork. Excellent. While temporary, they’d suffice for the few hours it took. Not bad for her first time. Now for the hardest part.

She opened the small black case containing two contact lenses that changed the pupils into reptilian ones. She pulled back the eyelids, and paused, making sure he wasn’t waking up, then put several drops from a bottle in the eye. The liquid would increase his sensitivity to the light, making sunglasses a necessity until she needed him to reveal himself.

She repeated the same procedure on the other eye. Once the liquid was fully covering it, she maneuvered the contact lens into the eyeball. It was delicate work, but nothing unreasonable. Once she was satisfied with the placement, she closed the eyelid and moved to the other one.

His transformation mostly complete, only one more touch was needed. Pulling out a small injector gun, she placed it on his arm and injected the tracking chip into his flesh. She glanced over at her small tablet and nodded as it started blinking where he was. Good. The rest of the team would need it.

Her job complete, she undressed and climbed back into bed for when he finally woke up. Pressing herself against his warm body, she relaxed, enjoying herself for what little time they had left before he died.

***

_Germany, Berlin_

Randy Ji glanced out the window as he witnessed the crowds growing. The power outage was still prevalent and was proving to be the last straw for many people. He didn’t know if anyone had tied it to the aliens yet, but there would be no doubt after the next few hours. He clenched his modified pistol. It was neat what engineering had been able to do, on first glance, the LED lights and chrome covering gave the illusion of an alien weapon. In truth it was nothing more than a slightly heavier pistol.

A pistol filled with acid coated rounds, but a pistol nonetheless. Also strapped to his waist was one of the symbiote guns from XCOM research. As far as he was told, it wasn’t lethal, so he wondered what use it would be. Still, if there was anyone who could use it to kill someone, it would be the three Kidon agents beside him.

He’d seen a lot and experienced more. Violence and death weren’t strangers to him, but something was wrong with the two men and woman beside him. They scared him, there was no other word. When going over the final plan, they’d spoken with all the emotion and remorse of ordering a sandwich.

He wasn’t exactly the most morally righteous guy, but still. They were literally planning the deaths of hundreds, surely that warranted _something_ , right? Knowing what he knew now, he wondered if he’d have joined XCOM Intelligence now if Zhang had asked him. True, he owed him and he wanted to fight aliens as much as anyone.

But he hadn’t counted on being paired up with literal sociopaths. Now that they’d completed their disguises and looked like the alien infiltrators, complete with weird neck spots and reptilian eyes, it was hard to feel safe around them. Not that he’d felt that way to begin with.

“Are you ready?” The female agent, Sarah, asked inquisitively. Out of all of them, she was the friendliest towards him, though he still had no doubt she’d kill him if she though he posed a threat.

He gave a brief nod. “Yeah.”

“Then let us go.” The leader, Azriel ordered. Contrasting Sarah, he was the one who most terrified him. The man was an emotionless shell, never once had he raised his voice or reacted to anything other than giving a bland, neutral response. At first he’d seemed relatively harmless, until he’d single handedly slaughtered every person who’d lived in this apartment with all the regret of stepping on fire ants.

Granted, they were all gang members, but it was still disturbing to witness.

“Remember,” Kalonymous, the last agent told them in his silky, yet oily voice. “I’ll be doing the talking.”

He shivered at the eerie sound. Kalonymous had a knack for mimicry and had spent the last few days perfecting his “alien voice.” Randy wasn’t completely sure what was so unsettling about it other than the fact that is did _not_ sound human. It was like if a snake had developed the power of speech.

In fact, Kalonymous had actually told him that was part of his inspiration. He’d described how he’d seen the thin men hiss and shriek when in danger or agitated. For good measure he occasionally added a _hiss_ to the end of his sentences.

Randy grabbed the acid bombs, stood up and tucked them into his business suit that the thin men typically wore. Azriel nodded in approval and they exited the building, placing their spectacle props over their eyes.

It was everything they had hoped for. Citizens lined up in the hundreds carrying signs, shouting slogans and demanding answers. Sarah pointed along the side. “We walk along that way. It’s less crowded.”

“We’ll need to get past the police barricade,” Kalonymous reminded them as they pushed their way through the crowd. “They should provide no issue.”

“Worst case scenario, we kill them.” Azriel told them.

Randy shivered at the casualness of it.

A few minutes of pushing they reached the least busy section of the barricade. Kalonymous wearing his oily and unsettling smile approached the guard captain in greeting while they followed close behind.

“[Greeting, good officer,]” he greeted in German, his voice alien as ever. “[We need to enter the Reichstag.]” He paused for dramatic effect. “[We have… _business_ with the Chancellor.]”

The officer eyed him skeptically and frowned. “[I highly doubt that. Stay behind the line.]”

Kalonymous simply inclined his head with a smile. “[I’m afraid you don’t know who we are. Your Chancellor recently made an… _alliance_ with us, did he not?]” With that he removed the spectacles from his eyes and all the officer within eyeshot flinched and stiffened.

Well, at least their disguises seemed to be working.

“[Apologies,]” the officer stammered out, pupils dilating and blood draining from his already pale face. “[We didn’t anticipate this…meeting. And we’ve been…busy.]”

“[It is no trouble,]” the agent assured him. “[Your species has much to learn. In fact…]” he paused contemplatively. “[Perhaps I could…assist…you dispersing this crowd. Perhaps the sight of us will…reassure, the population of our commitment to this…alliance.]”

“[I’ll have to clear that,]” The officer told him and raised his walkie-talkie. As he made the call, Randy could sense the crowd getting more and more charged and agitated as they still received nothing from the police or officials.

The officer nodded at them. “[You are cleared to try. But I wouldn’t expect anything.]”

“[Leave that to us.]” Kalonymous assured him. The Police line parted for them and they walked over to the center of the line. Randy clenched his pistol as the crowd saw them and audibly quieted when they noticed the discolored skin and reptilian eyes. Kalonymous raised a hand in greeting.

“[Fellow citizens of this city, there is no need for this kind of disobedience.]” He began in a silky tone, managing to squeeze some condensation into it, just what he’d expect from an alien greeting a “lesser” species.

The responses came fast and furious.

“[Why are you here?]”

“[Why did you attack Hamburg?]”

“[Why is the power off?]”

“[Get off our planet!]”

Kalonymous lowered his hands in an appeal for calm. “[I assure that we will take care of you. Together, our alliance will ensure-]”

“[Liar!]” One shouted and a bunch of other voices joined in agreement.

“We have an opening.” Azriel muttered. “Execute.”

They were cleared. Keeping his smile, Kalonymous walked down until he stood in front of the woman who’d shouted the first insult. “[Perhaps your species needs a lesson in respect.]” He stated, his oily tone hardening. “[You need to learn your place.]” With that he raised his symbiote gun at her head and fired.

The small black ball splattered over her face and she clawed at it as the substance attached itself to her head. She tried to scream, but the substance effectively suffocated her as it spread across her face. He switched to a pistol and fired at the two closest to her, killing them instantly.

“[Disperse!]” He yelled and pandemonium broke out as some people started charging the police line while some just started running away.

That was their cue. Azriel and Sarah raised their weapons and began firing into the crowd. Splatters of blood and the symbiote substance filled the area. The bullets tore into dozens of civilians, killing and wounding them. Randy threw the two acid bombs randomly into the crowd, letting his face betray nothing as screams from the acid burns reached his ears through the sound of bullets and tearing flesh.

The police were clearly not sure what to do. As the four of them moved past the police line into the crowd, they were obviously torn between killing all of them or holding back so as not to jeopardize the alliance. Several officers made the decision and raised their weapons at Azriel and fired.

Both tore into his chest and the man had as little reaction as ever, only providing a theatrical hiss. He simply turned toward the stunned officers, raised his pistol and executed them. The bullets tore into their faces and they collapsed to the ground. Blood seeping into his suit, he turned to the officer leader who stared in shock.

The street was filled with corpses and the police were no longer focused on what remained on the crowd, but now on them. They raised their weapons at them, most shaking in fear. “[Put your weapons on the ground now!]” The officer leader demanded, his voice trembling.

“[Apologies for this,]” Kalonymous told them, a bloody smile on his face. “[But we do not tolerate disobedience to those in authority. Something your species needs to learn.]”

“[On the ground now!]” The officer screamed, all pretense of control gone.

Kalonymous’ face hardened. “[So be it.]” He dropped the smoke bomb, he been holding and that was the cue for them to fall to the ground. The officers stupidly fired into the smoke, only stopping once they realized that there were still civilians in the area.

“Go.” Azriel told them on the ground as the police closed in. “I will distract them.”

Knowing death had always been a possibility, they all nodded and began crawling through the bodies while Azriel bought them time. Quickly stripping the suits off them and ditching the spectacles, they rose a distance away and acted the part of terrified civilians. The sound of automatic fire filled the air again and once they were far enough away, they began making their way to the safe house.

Randy heard the sound of an explosion and bowed his head as he ran, offering what little respect he could. Frankly, he wasn’t even that sad. As he ran through the streets filled with corpses, he felt that was the only fate they really deserved.

***

_Germany, Cologne_

“[Come on!]” Ruth gestured forward at a grimacing Norman as they made their way through the agitated crowd. Despite him trying to hide it, the light was overwhelming for him right now. Which was a good thing, considering how close he’d come to ruining everything.

Everything had happened mostly as planned. He’d woken up in a frenzy and he’d tried to get ready and leave as soon as possible. While simultaneously apologizing for how badly he’d “screwed this up” as he said. She’d kept up the act, assuring him it was no trouble.

He’d immediately began noting his sensitivity to the light and decided to quickly check his eyes. Had she not insisted she use it first, he might have died sooner than later. She’d had to break the mirror, but she’d practiced her apology manipulation enough that it was second nature. All you had to do was make promises to fix it and the person would sigh and agree, no questions asked.

Doubly so if you’d just slept with said person.

She’d ended up driving since the liquid she’d put in his eyes had been more concentrated than she wanted. He’d grabbed his sunglasses as planned and that appeared to have helped, though he was still wincing from time to time.

 It wasn’t a bad turnout, all things considered. What these activists lacked in critical thinking, they made up for in enthusiasm and determination. Admirable. If only they put that towards something useful.

Perhaps today would be a wake-up call to some.

She checked her watch. Everyone was congealing around the city hall, exactly as they’d planned. All the acid bombs were in place and set to go off in…she glanced down again. Nine minutes.

A brief vibration on his wrist indicated another operative nearby. She had a pretty good idea who the other man in question was, since his task was the same as her own. He wondered if he’d found another nice pretty lady to add to his collection. He was _almost_ as good as her in regards to seduction.

She glanced up at Norman, keep him distracted for another few minutes. “[Hey, you alright?]”

“[I don’t know,]” he answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “[Everything is so bright.]”

She shifted her features into a mask of concern. “[Is there something wrong with your eyes?]”

He shook his head vigorously. “[No. Or at least I don’t _think_ anything’s wrong. I swear this is the first it’s happened.]”

She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “[Perhaps you should get it checked out?]”

“[If it doesn’t go away by tonight, I will,]” he promised her, with a smile. “[Guess I should be glad you’re so concerned.]”

She smiled and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. “[C’mon, I’m curious how this all works.]”

He smiled at her and began motioning her forward. “[Ok, first we need to get in touch with-]” He words were cut off as three clouds from the acid bombs appeared in random spots in the crowd and screams began filling the air as those caught in the blast had their flesh stripped and melted. Two more explosions rang out and the ground shook.

That was her cue, stumbling into Norman, she placed the plasma pistol replica in his pack and made a show of stumbling back as the pandemonium broke out. People ran every which way trying to escape. She easily lose him in the crowd and switched her watch to GPS setting. A red light blinked and she began heading toward it, pushing her way through the rush of people screaming in terror.

Through the sea of terrified people, she spotted her target. A younger woman, probably around twenty-five, long brown hair and fair skin. Also wearing sunglasses and standing shell shocked as she frantically looked around. Probably looking for _him_. She saw the marking on her neck and smiled. Time for the show.

Putting on her best shocked/surprised face she gasped and pointed at the woman. “[Oh my God!]” She screamed, attracting the immediate attention of those around her. “[She’s one of _them!]”_ Those around her made confused faces and the woman stepped back in surprise.

“[What are you taking about-]” She demanded, confused.

“[Your neck!]” Ruth interrupted, pointing at the discolored patches of skin. “[I’ve seen it before!]”

“[Listen,]” the woman insisted raising her hands as the spectacle drew more attention. “[Just calm down-]”

“[I was at Hamburg!]" A voice called out. “[I saw aliens just like this, wearing our faces!]”

Realizing her life was quickly becoming more imperiled, the woman’s stepped back. “[I don’t know what you’re talking about! I’m _not_ an alien!]”

“[Prove it!]” Ruth yelled. “[Let us see your eyes!]”

The woman’s face drained of color and Ruth knew she’d figured out that she’d been played. “[Listen-]” she began when a man ran up and yanked the glasses off her and stumbled back with a gasp.

“[She’s one of them!]” He shouted in terror, stumbling back.

A shout echoed across the street. “[The aliens are here! They’re among us!]”

It appeared they’d found Norman. The crowd closed on the woman and she raised her hands in defense. “[You’re being tricked!]” She yelled as her bag fell to the ground and she stepped back, afraid.

Ruth walked over to her bag and widened her eyes as she pulled out the plasma pistol replica. Holding up the weapon for all to see she raised her voice. “[She was here to stop us!]”

The accusations flew hard and fast.

“[Did _you_ do this?]”

“[You’ll pay, alien scum!]”

“[You deserve to die!]”

“[I’ve had enough of this!]” A man shouted, balling his fist and approaching her. “[This is for Hamburg!]” He cried as he swung it with all his might at her. The force threw her to the ground and any restraint these people had left vanished. With yells and jostles they charged forward to show the “alien” how Earth dealt with murderers.

He job complete, she stepped back and made her way outside the crowd as she watched it dissolve into a melee. The police and emergency crews were on-site, but they were caring for the injured, not even worried about the lynching going on. And she doubted they’d even care once they learned what had happened.

“All without a hitch.” Shem Spiro said as he walked up beside her, observing the chaos. “It was much easier than I assumed.”

“Same here,” she agreed. “Though that tends to happen when we do our jobs well.”

“I hope you weren’t too attached to him,” Shem commented, nodding towards where she assumed Norman was being assaulted. “I got the impression he’s going to die slowly.”

She snorted. “Do you even think they’ll kill him?”

“Oh, not intentionally,” Shem amended with a dismissive wave. “But enough people hyped up on rage and adrenaline and have a nice target to take their grief and anger out on without consequence? I doubt people will hold back.”

“Crowd mentality is interesting,” She commented as the screams became louder and she saw baseball bats and metal poles being passed around. “It’s amazing what normally peaceful people will do if everyone else is violent.”

Shem shrugged. “Most people are easily manipulated. We figured it out a while ago.”

“Right,” she nodded as the fighting continued. Well, it would probably be a while before they dispersed and they’d have to stay to collect the bodies and make sure they were dead. Might as well hear how his mission went.

“So,” she asked. “How was she?”

He chuckled. “She threw me for a bit at first, but did come around. They all do eventually.” They continued chatting about their respective missions as the crowd continued their assault on the two figures they deemed the cause of all their troubles.  

***

_Germany, Berlin_

Akello fiddled with her tablet as she watched the massacre in a combination of awe and horror. “Wow. Your people are hardcore. Like, _really,_ hardcore.”

The tan skinned woman in full unmarked XCOM armor beside her simply smiled. “The Kidon are the assassination branch of the Mossad. We are no stranger to civilian casualties.”

“Yeah…” Akello muttered uncertainly as she looked out over the dozens or corpses littering the street. “But still, that isn’t normal.”

Lila snorted as she fiddled with her assault rifle. “We’re not normal.”

Akello raised an eyebrow. “You could have fooled me.” She answered, and meant it. When Zhang had paired her up with Lila, she wasn’t sure what to expect from the woman. But she’d been open, friendly and they’d swapped plenty of stories.

How had Zhang even gotten these people in the first place? How’d he even get his _position_? When he’d come offering a position in XCOM Intelligence, she’d immediately accepted. At the time, she was in the unfortunate position of being on the run and this was a perfect escape. That she actually got to work for a decent cause was just an added bonus.

Still, she did worry that being on the run from the Triad might prove to be an issue in the future. Well, Zhang knew that and from the way he’d described the hypothetical reunion, he didn’t seem overly worried.

“You should wear some armor.” Lila advised as she stood. “That vest might not protect you if it comes to a shootout.”

“I need to move quickly,” she reminded her. “Besides, if you’re half as good as you brag, we shouldn’t even be in that position, should we?”

Lila smiled. “Fair point.” She gestured toward the building. “You’ve taken care of the cameras?”

She nodded and placed her tablet into her pack with her equipment. “I took care of that a while ago. All cameras are set on a loop.”

Lila shook her head in amazement. “How did you break in so quickly?”

Akello snorted, her black skin flushing with suppressed pride. “This was nothing compared to the Chinese. I helped the Triad quite a few times and became very familiar with their system. Really, only North Korea, China, Israel and the USA really pose a challenge.”

“In that case,” Lila answered. “Let’s go!”

They exited the building through the back and started making their way around to the back of the Reichstag. All the guards were up at the front, handling the attack and letting them sneak unnoticed up to a side door. Taking point at the wall, Lila looked down on her as she set up her computer.

“You know, no offense, but you kinda stand out.” She commented as she watched for interruptions.

“Well, sorry that Africans generally don’t come to Germany,” she snapped while she worked to disable the lock. “And you’re one to talk. You’re not exactly a chameleon either.” The woman’s brown skin flushed.

“More than you.” She shot back one more time. Akello looked up as the door clicked and flashed green.

“In we go,” she said while packing her equipment. Opening the door, they entered.

“The building is in lockdown,” She told her as they strode through the building, watching for trouble, regardless. “We shouldn’t encounter anyone.”

“That was the plan, anyway.” Lila muttered as they reached the stairs. “These schematics better be correct.”

“They are,” Akello assured her. “I downloaded them from the mainframe itself.”

They advance quickly and in silence, their boots clacking on the tile floor. Akello raised a hand. “Wait! It’s here.” Lila waked over to a large, sealed door. She tapped on it with her fist.

“I assume you can bypass this?” She asked, looking at her.

“Don’t insult me.”

It took a few minutes to set up and enter the system, but once she was in, she looked at Lila. “I can disable the power, lights and open the doors,” She told her. “Ready when you are.”

Lila walked up behind her. “Cameras?” Akello pulled them up, which showed four soldiers guarding the terrified cabinet. She nodded. “Kill the lights and power. Then open the door. Let me go in first.”

She complied and with furious keystrokes, forced the computers to do what she wanted. With a hiss the door slid open and Lila went inside. Akello scooted up to the door as she witnessed Lila enter the darkened room.

The four guards never stood a chance. Within the span of a few seconds she shot each guard in the head and they collapsed to the ground in various intervals. Akello watched in fascinated horror as she walked to each remained cabinet member and casually shot them one by one in the head.

Some of them tried to flee, but she simply gunned them down. She finally stopped in front of the Chancellor and President, both cowering by the wall.

Lila inclined her head politely, the blood splattered on her face making her appear like an insane killer. Which she pretty much was, minus the “insane” part. “Chancellor, President. You are both under arrest.”

“You have no right-“ The president shouted before Lila promptly slammed the butt of her rifle into his head and he collapsed to the ground.

Lila walked into the room, marveling at the death around her. She’d only been in a warzone like this once and had gotten out as soon as possible. It was surreal seeing the sightless eyes and bloody faces around her. The bodies of the cabinet lay slumped over the massive table and in their chairs.

“Why are you doing this?” The Chancellor demanded, fear forcing a stutter in his voice.

Lila pondered that. “For me? I’m just following orders,” she swept her arm in the direction of the carnage. “But as for why I’m being ordered? Well, you didn’t exactly make friends when you withdrew from the Council and decided to _negotiate_ with the aliens.”

“This is the _Council?”_ he sputtered in disbelief. “Impossible!”

Lila nodded. “You’re quite right. The Council would never do this. Don’t worry,” she assured him, raising her hands placating. “You’ll find out soon enough.” With that she slammed her rifle into his head and he collapsed.

“You got the explosives?” she called as she began tying up their prisoners.

“Yeah!” Akello called out, setting her pack down. “Right here.”

“Set them at the corners and symmetrically on the ground!” She instructed. Akello complied and within ten minutes, all the charges were placed.

“Ready!” She called. Lila motioned her over.

“Grab him.” She instructed, pointing at the president. “I’ll get the esteemed Chancellor.”

Grabbing his arm, Akello grunted as she slung him over her shoulder, groaning at the weight. Both captives secure, they began hastily making their way out through the back, the building still in lockdown, they encountered no one.

As they ran, Akello pondered her current situation. Well regardless of what she was doing, life in XCOM Intelligence certainly wasn’t boring.

***

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The Commander stood stoic and expressionless as the screens depicted the carnage happening across the country. Everyone on the news and social media was in shock at the brutal and merciless attacks. But they’d had their intended effect. The populace was enraged and judging from how the anger was slowly turning into rioting and looting, the time had come for the takeover.

He glanced to his right to see Vahlen standing numbly as she watched the screen. He was worried about her. Even though she’d agreed it was necessary, he didn’t think she’d really known the extent of what would be required to happen. In addition to that, it was one thing to read in an outline, another to see it executed.

Regime changes were rarely bloodless and here would be no exception. But it was far better than it being under alien control, which was something that could not be afforded right now. His earpiece buzzed and he tapped it.

“Yes?” he asked.

Bradford’s voice was tight. _“Minister Habicht wishes to speak to you.”_

It would be over soon then. “Put him through.”

Disconnecting he looked at the other two in the room. “The Minister wants to speak.”

“Good.” Vahlen said tonelessly. The screen changed from newsflashes to the older military leader he’d met before. He looked bad, weary and haggard and it appeared he hadn’t slept for probably a day.

“Minister,” the Commander greeted. “I don’t know what to say to you right now. What’s happening is a tragedy,” He hung his head. “I wish there was something we could have done.”

Despite what he’d done, he meant it. If there was another way to salvage Germany, he would have at least tried it.

 _“Thank you, Commander,”_ Habicht answered wearily. _“It’s just….I knew the aliens were ruthless. I could even understand the Hamburg attack from a military perspective…”_ He trailed off and looked to the side. _“But this…they aren’t content to attack my country. They want to control it.”_

“We stand ready to assist if you need us.” The Commander assured him.

The Minister’s face hardened. _“The offer is appreciated, Commander, but this is not your fault.”_

He supposed it wasn’t. From a certain point of view.

 _“The Chancellor has brought the country down to this point,”_ He continued. _“Him and his cabinet.”_

The Commander nodded gravely, though still putting some concern in his voice. “I thought you didn’t want to take over?”

 _“I cannot in good conscience sit by while my country falls apart,”_ He almost spat out. _“If restoring my country requires I direct it myself, then so be it. I will not let these idiot leaders surrender to the aliens after they’ve done this!”_

“Then what are you planning?” The Commander asked curiously.

 _“Our communications have just been restored,”_ Habicht stated, some fire returning to his eyes. _“As we speak the German military is moving to secure this country and restore order. I will be heading to Berlin to give my own speech to our people. Though the tone will be much different than the esteemed Chancellors. And since I’ve just received word that most of the cabinet is dead from another attack, we should have no issues taking command.”_

Excellent. Still keeping up the concerned act, he asked one final question. “Are you sure the populace will accept your…well…leadership?”

 _“They will,”_ he snapped icily. _“And if not….well, it was the idiot populace and their protests that led us into this mess in the first place. I care more about order before public opinion.”_

That was slightly worrying and he’d have to watch the new soon-to-be Chancellor closely to ensure he wasn’t abusing his position. But at the moment, securing Germany and gaining the support of their military and receiving additional funding was more important.

“Very well,” He stated with finality. “XCOM will support you. I hope we don’t regret it.”

 _“I assure you,”_ Habicht leaned forward. _“I will ensure that Germany does everything in its power to assist you. Without the interference of politicians.”_

“Excellent,” he answered. “I look forward to working together officially.”

 _“The feeling is mutual, Commander.”_ He answered, inclining his head. _“I will be in contact after the country has been secured.”_

With that he cut the line and the screens returned to the news stations broadcasting the carnage and fires throughout the country.

Zhang spoke first. “It worked.”

The Commander pursed his lips and nodded sadly. “It did.”

“At what cost?” Vahlen muttered as she looked down. “Was all….this…” she gestured at the screen. “Was it worth it?”

He looked at her sadly. “It depends on what you value. We’ve denied the aliens a foothold on our planet and brought order to the country.”

“We did this,” she muttered as she gazed at the screen. “ _I_ did this. To my own country, my own people.” A tear rolled down her cheek followed by another. He put his arm around her and pulled her into a hug which she gratefully accepted.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to her. “But it was necessary.”

“Perhaps,” she muttered into his shoulder. “But it wasn’t right.”

On that he could agree. They stayed that way for a while with Zhang watching the screen expressionlessly.

And together, they watched Germany burn.


	25. First Contact: Muton

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

Finally he was alone.

With that admission the Commander sank into his chair and let out a long sigh. It wasn’t even close to an ideal situation, but considering the circumstances, everything had gone relatively smoothly. Within the next few days Germany would be secured and begin funding XCOM again, _outside_ the jurisdiction of the Council.

Whether Habicht turned out to be a decent leader or a tyrant was yet to be determined, but at the moment, it wasn’t a pressing concern. And in the event that he _did_ end up abusing his power…well, the former Chancellor and President would come in handy. The captive heads of state were currently holed up in a Kidon safe house and would stay there for the immediate future until more permanent cells for them could be established.

Resting his arms on the armrests of his chair, he leaned back. It was unfortunate one of Zhang’s operatives had been forced to sacrifice himself, but in context to what was happening, it was an acceptable casualty rate. As far as inciting the populace, the Hades Contingency had surpassed his expectations. From spending a half-hour online and watching several news stations, anti-alien sentiment was spreading across the globe.

How easily people were manipulated.

But it was for their own good.

He had no doubt his enemies on the Council believed he was behind this, but he _was_ certain that they had no proof. Oh, they’d certainly find it suspicious, but would be powerless to actually do anything about it. Unless they flat out fabricated evidence, he’d made sure to leave as little evidence for the Council to find as possible. But he considered the Council stooping to such lengths unlikely. They were predictable to a fault. They’d just use their clearly biased Speaker to make passive-aggressive comments and occasionally insult him. But they would be powerless to do anything.

Which was another benefit of the Hades Contingency he hadn’t realized. Whether the Council could, or could not prove he was behind it wasn’t as important as the fact that because he _might_ be able to do something like, it also meant that he could do the same to their own countries. They weren’t idiots, that would no doubt cross their minds and perhaps that fear would be enough.

Which was a perfectly warranted fear. If another country followed the idiocy of the German government, he’d do the exact same thing. Of course, if their fear of him became _too_ high they might decide to just remove him altogether. And while he would ultimately refuse and continue leading XCOM, that would force everyone within it to make a choice: stay with him or follow the directive of the Council.

Either way spelled doom for humanity. Like it or not, XCOM was the only legitimate threat against the aliens.

Personally, if he had the funding and resources, he’d break off with the Council at the earliest opportunity. But sadly, they still provided the majority of what he needed. Progress had been made with Israel and soon, Germany, but he needed more. It was impractical to keep overthrowing regimes and placing friendly puppets in their place. Not to mention that wasn’t the purpose of the Hades Contingency.

No, he’d have to begin making more alliances with outside countries. The Council was temporary, and evidence or no evidence, they would not support him forever. His methods were just too incompatible with their values, and even those who had initially appointed him to this position would change sides once this war got bloodier. And it would.

The aliens didn’t matter. The Councilors personally didn’t feel the effects of the attacks like XCOM did. They certainly _saw_ the results, but to them, he represented a much larger and personal threat. Provided he didn’t enact anything like the Hades Contingency again, he estimated he _might_ be able to rely on them for at least half a year, maybe longer depending on how he used the information from Wernher.

Appeasement and intimidation. That’s what was needed. The Council had to be shown that his methods worked and the only way that would happen were piles of alien corpses, alloys and weapons. He needed to redirect their attention to the alien threat and _not_ him. It might be time to begin sending them some token objects recovered from the battlefield.

They’d have to be altered of course, so the UN couldn’t replicate any of their technology. Vahlen could probably render any objects sent over their as useless and the Council wouldn’t know either way. They’d be satisfied he was cooperating and then proceed to waste their time studying the artifacts.

He nodded. That would probably appease the more moderate members of the Council. Give the illusion of cooperation and most complaints against him would disappear. The hardline councilors, the ones who were likely trying to figure out how to legally remove him from power at this very moment, _they_ would have to be intimidated.

While permanently removing them would solve that problem, it was incredibly suspicious and impractical to do that _and_ have replacements friendly to him ready at the same time. Not to mention it would raise questions that might push more people against him. No. Lethal force against councilors was not the best course of action, not when there were better options.

First and foremost, they had to be identified. Ali Ennor was the only one so far, and that would be a decent starting point. Once he had the names, he could begin to ensure their cooperation. The evidence he’d uncovered about their actions in Germany _might_ be enough to blackmail several of them, but certainly not all.

Luckily, he was fairly certain they all had families and when negotiation failed, people quickly fell into line when their loved ones were threatened. He pursed his lips. He disliked that method, but unfortunately, the Council had forced his hand. Had they all just let him do his job and _not_ tried to sabotage him, he’d be perfectly fine. But since they were actively impeding his defense of Earth they were not only jeopardizing all he’d built so far, they were literally risking Earth to fulfill a petty grudge.

There were two major flaws with that particular method. First of which, it was simply impractical to have people watching all the councilors family members, especially if they were large or spread out. Optimistically, each councilor would have one person, probably a wife, husband or lover. Children tended to stay with the latter half, so they wouldn’t be a drain on resources, but with even an estimate of applying this method too….say four, that would take at least four agents watching them at all times. Which he simply couldn’t do at this time.

So it would have to be the _threat_ of him following through that forced them into line. That was the logistics problem. The other, and potentially more dangerous issue was that if they did _not_ fall into line and he was forced to kill said loved one. Which would be a problem if said councilor only had one person important to them. Once the only bargaining chip was taken out, the councilor had nothing to lose and thus would be difficult to control.

So ideally, there would be two additional people important enough to threaten. That way, if he was forced to terminate one, the other would still be alive and the councilor would know he was serious. Children were especially useful in this regard, they didn’t even have to be necessarily related. Just the threat of children suffering was sufficient.

In fact…

He cocked his head up as a new idea struck him. _That_ could be a solution to the one-family-member issue. So if he _was_ forced to terminate the one bargaining chip related to the councilor, he could then switch to a child hostage.

He frowned. Which presented the problem of where to _get_ these new hostages. Kidnapping would likely draw attention, even if done by XCOM Intelligence. Hmm. Orphanages? Perhaps, but that might also draw unwanted attention, possibly more so than kidnapping. He rapped his fingers on the desk as thoughts raced through his head.

 _Ah_ , the answer was obvious. Juvenile detention centers. While uncommon, children in the fourteen-sixteen range did inhabit them and if two or three went missing, it was unlikely anyone would care that much. The general public didn’t look kindly on criminals, even juveniles. As they should.

The _next_ issue there was that he would be limited in his options. The candidate that would most elicit an emotional reaction from his target would be female, and age…hmm… Probably around fourteen or fifteen. Younger the better, really. People tended to have a natural instinct to protect the young, especially if they were female.

And unless the criminal population had drastically changed, there were few female criminals in general, much less those that fit that profile. And of those that _did_ exist, they were probably rare enough to draw attention, so extracting them might prove troublesome.

He nodded. Something for Zhang to look into, maybe Bradford as well. Out of the three options he had briefly considered, taking criminals from the juvenile justice system was probably the route that would cause the least amount of problems. Even better if the ones he chose were charged with murder. Much easier to justify to Shen and anyone else who might object.

That was another concern at the moment, possibly more immediate than the Council, since at least they were predictable and he could eventually deal with them. The Hades Contingency had not exactly gone over well with Shen and Bradford. Van Doorn had also seemed disturbed at what had happened, though he hadn’t known much beforehand.

Van Doorn would see the military advantages, and that might help negate the moral issues he had. Possibly. He still needed to have an in-depth discussion with him about how he operated and work out any issues they had. Van Doorn’s timing had not been great, but there was little that could be done to fix that. Time to move forward.

Bradford was likely on the side of disapproval, but at least understood why he’d done it. He got the impression was more concerned about the regime change than the contingency itself. A concern he certainly shared, but one that would have to be discussed later.

As for Vahlen, he was more concerned about her emotional state. He’d been impressed that she’d recognized the necessity of the Hades Contingency, though he wasn’t blind to the toll that it would take on her. As it should, he would have been more worried if she’d had no reaction at all. He’d have to talk to her, help her channel whatever she was feeling into her work against the aliens.

He wasn’t concerned about Zhang at all. The man had a thought and rationalization process similar to him and had come to terms with it long ago. Nothing to worry about.

Shen was going to pose the greatest internal risk. The man simply wasn’t cut out for military work. He was too focused on the wrong things. Ultimately, the goal of a war was to defeat your enemy. Shen seemed to think it was about saving people _from_ that enemy. A goal which, to the Commander, only happened _after_ you defeated your enemy. You saved people by fighting the source, not reacting to it.

Shen was brilliant and excellent at his job, but he had the wrong mindset. At some point, he was going to make a choice: support him or leave. And at the moment, the Commander considered him leaving a real possibility. And he wasn’t sure how to stop that with him. The simplest way would be to apologize and that was not going to happen because that implied that he was in the wrong.

He would not apologize for doing what was necessary. No. Shen had to be convinced that he _didn’t_ want to do this, which was going to be difficult to do, regardless of it’s truthfulness. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. This was why he’d reviewed the psychological profiles of anyone in his unit. A man like Shen would have been tossed out immediately, regardless of his skills.

His intercom buzzed. He pressed the answer button. “Yes?”

 _“Commander,”_ Bradford informed him urgently. _“We’ve located a UFO. A landed UFO.”_

The Commander immediately rose and began logging into his computer to access the data. “Send me the location. How long ago?”

 _“We estimate one or two hours,”_ Bradford answered. _“It’s landed in Haiti.”_

“An odd location,” The Commander commented as he scanned the data. “Outside the contagion zones. Why would they go there?”

 _“Can’t say, Commander,”_ he could imagine the shrug in Bradford’s voice. _“But this one is…different. Based off the signature, it’s much larger than the previous ones.”_

“I’ll compile a squad,” the Commander told him. “I imagine our soldiers will be eager to deliver some payback, especially with Shen finishing the armor.”

 _“I imagine so, Commander,”_ Bradford agreed. _“I’ll prepare a skyranger.”_

“Do that,” the Commander instructed. “I’ll begin preparations.”

_“Acknowledged. Central, out.”_

***

_The Citadel, Practice Range_

It was hard to believe the situation could have gotten much worse.

But somehow it had happened.

Liam had watched in disbelief as the Chancellor made his speech. He could understand some German, but not fluently, so at first he wondered if there’d been something he’d missed. But watching Luke’s face change from amazement to despair convinced him that he wasn’t mishearing things.

Germany surrendering to the aliens. He could admit he hadn’t seen that coming.

Sure, no doubt the government was scared, but it was such a drastic step to immediately give up mere hours after one of the worst attacks in it’s history. There had to be something that all of them were missing. There was no question that Germany had pulled out of the Council, they wouldn’t make a speech like that otherwise.

But why?

Surely they knew better than anyone now what the aliens were capable of? It was inexcusable for one of the _Council Nations_ to make such a huge mistake. Did they honestly think the aliens were just going to peacefully cooperate? Or did the German Councilor simply not share information with the Chancellor?

So while that had been devastating enough, the next day had been even worse. Reports about entire cities going dark, massacres of citizens and even rumors about the elimination of the cabinet began appearing.

The news stations had censored the footage for the general public, but eventually it was confirmed that yes, attacks on civilians were happening and that the cabinet was dead. He’d needed to get away from the barrage of bad news and do something productive. Shooting the replicas of aliens certainly was better than dwelling over what was happening.

Unfortunately, shooting still targets wasn’t enough to fully occupy his mind. He fired short laser bursts and the targets burst into flames or disintegrated. But he was running on autopilot while he thought hard and furiously about what could be done.

First and foremost. There had to be some reprisal. The Hamburg attack was bad enough, but the aliens had shown their true colors by attacking a country that had pledged to find a peaceful solution. He pursed his lips as he blasted another target.

The only difficulty was actually _finding_ aliens to fight. With their UFO’s, they could go anywhere and they would be fools to actually set up any sort of important hub on Earth itself. So they had to wait until another UFO was shot down or an abduction was reported. It was frustrating having to react instead of _doing_ something.

He had no doubt the Commander was working Bradford and Zhang hard to find out where they were. The mood in a barracks was charged: They wanted revenge and they wanted it now. The shock was beginning to wear off and he pitied the aliens when they were finally unleashed.

Even the more reserved soldiers like Abby were ready and willing to bring as much pain to the aliens as possible. As for himself…well, he’d seen enough events like this that he didn’t have the same burning passion to stop it as everyone else had manifested. This may have been the first attack on this scale, but it wouldn’t be the last.

The more veteran soldiers seemed to feel that way as well. The anger everyone was feeling was excellent motivation, but he’d learned that too strong of an emotion would cloud judgement. Anger didn’t make you invincible, regardless of what was felt.

The next, and most obvious step was to bring Germany under control. With their leadership dead, _someone_ needed to bring order and there were only two organizations that could do so. The United Nations and the German Military. And between those two, the military was probably the best solution.

He pondered that as he blasted several more targets to dust. The Commander would be wise to open communications with the Defense Minister. If he was even still alive, some reports suggested that the military had been hit as well.

If nothing else, this attack had certainly brought all the soldiers together despite all their past differences. Shawn’s death had hit harder than most, as more had known him and he’d been a generally easy guy to know and like. Carmelita had been taking it hardest, cutting off any attempts to sympathize with her by rejecting any attempts with silence

That was concerning, and should probably be addressed sooner than later. The last thing needed was a mental breakdown in the middle of a firefight. Luke was actually handling everything surprisingly well, considering the events that were happening in his own country. And Liam had a basic theory as to how that was; Mira Vauner.

For reasons he couldn’t answer, she’d somehow become interested in Luke and actually went out of her way to speak to him. For a woman who supposedly viewed friendships as weaknesses, it was certainly suspicious at how much time she was spending with him. Though for all he knew, she had some ulterior motive hidden from everyone. Which was possible, given she _was_ a Kidon agent.

But he wasn’t certain about that. It seemed odd, but she seemed under the impression that her activities went unnoticed by the rest of them. How she could have arrived at that conclusion, he didn’t know. Or maybe she simply didn’t care, no one had been brave enough to ask her about it.

He personally didn’t care overmuch. It was interesting, but what she did with her time was her business and he didn’t feel the need to inquire further. But he couldn’t help feel some curiosity about her motives. Mira didn’t strike him as the type to get to know someone without a reason. He interested her for some reason. And he was certainly _not_ going to speculate too much about what that reason was, because the most obvious reason was probably _not_ correct.

Well, at least Patricia was having a nice time sleeping through all of this. She was going to be in for quite a shock when she finally woke, whenever that was. Abby had told him probably sometime today, but it might be longer.

He lowered his weapon as he observed the smoking range. Despite coming here with the intention to distract himself, he clearly hadn’t succeeded. He sighed and began walking away. At least Shen had finished all the armor and replaced what they’d had currently with it. It was a distinct improvement, bulkier and more… _segmented_ was the wrong word, but it was the one that came to mind. There seemed to be more parts to it. Not to mention it actually had the shiny look of _actual_ armor instead of the plastic sheen of the Kevlar.

He was looking forward to trying-

He froze as his wristband buzzed. Without wasting time, he began rushing towards the barracks.

It appeared he was going to be testing it sooner than later.

***

_The Citadel, Hanger Bay_

The new armor didn’t just look sturdier, it _felt_ sturdier. It weighed a bit more, but that was to be expected and he’d always sacrifice a little speed for greater protection. The armor made him feel…imposing…as he walked, or more accurately, _marched_ forward. It felt like an added protection that he’d never had before.

He wondered if this was how the knights of the medieval era felt as they marched to war. In today’s world, soldiers wearing this would likely have the same effect. It was fortunate XCOM was the only organization that had access to this material, else other countries would likely fight a war for the resources to create their own modern knights.

The door to the hanger hissed open and he was disappointed at himself for being the last one to arrive. At least their pilot wasn’t there yet. As he strode forward, his HUD identified the soldiers also decked out in the new armor. Marten El-Amin, Yvette Estrada, Sol Gandy, Jo Simon and Jae Trejo.

Hmm. He hadn’t worked with most of these soldiers that much. Marten and Yvette were the ones he knew the best by virtue of working with them a little during previous missions. The kid was a fairly decent soldier and Yvette was competent, but he not by much more. The rest of them he knew little about. He’d make do regardless. If there was one thing consistent about the soldiers in XCOM, it was that the majority were competent.

He’d been informed that he was the Squad Overseer, and each of them saluted as he approached. “At ease,” he told them. “Has our pilot arrived?”

“No, Overseer,” Marten replied, adjusting his weapon. “He should be arriving any minute.”

He nodded at each of them. “Is your gear sufficient?”

They all nodded. “Yes, Overseer.”

“Excellent.” They turned as the door opened and Fallen Sky strode in. Liam snapped into stance and the rest of the squad followed his lead.

“Overseer,” Fallen Sky greeted with a nod, aviation helm covering his face. “Is your team prepared?”

“Yes, Fallen Sky.”

The ramp to the skyranger opened and Fallen Sky gestured towards the vehicle as he began walking past them. “Then load up!”

Liam turned to his squad. “Form up and follow me!” He ordered as he turned towards the skyranger and the squad formed up behind him. “It’s time to even the score.”

***

_Skyranger, En route to LZ_

The skyranger was quiet as it tore across the sky. Liam sat between Marten and Yvette, the others sat opposite them. Liam looked across at the fidgeting soldiers. “Gandy, Simon, Trejo,” he inclined his head towards each of them as he said the name. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Liam Jaster.”

“A pleasure,” Jae Trejo answered warily. “I’ve heard about you. A CT agent, correct?”

Liam gave a brief nod. “Correct.”

The man beside him, Jo Simon, sniffed. “Interesting. I always thought they were a myth. Something the Russians used as propaganda.”

It appeared someone didn’t have the best opinion of him or his country. He appraised the soldier opposite him. “The Kremlin doesn’t use CT agents as propaganda,” he explained. “However, we cannot predict how other countries will interpret what they learn from their own intelligence forces.”

“So is that what the CT unit is?” Simon asked skeptically, leaning back and crossing his arms. “An intelligence force?”

Liam pursed his lips under his helmet. “I will not confirm or deny.”

“Figured as much.”

“Well, what did you think?” Sol Gandy asked sarcastically. “That he’s just going to reveal information just because you asked?”

Simon shrugged. “I like to know who I’m working with.”

“As do I,” Sol agreed. “But we’re all on the same side.”

“Agreed,” Marten interjected. “All this questioning really does is makes it easier for the aliens to divide us. Look what they did to Germany.”

“Perhaps,” Simon answered, leaning forward. “But this war is going to end one day and win or lose, it’s going to change. And if we win, someone’s going to take advantage.”

Liam held up a hand, forestalling any future debate. This wasn’t even close to the ideal time or place. “That is a discussion for another time, Simon. Focus on the aliens. The rest of the world will be sorted out _after_ we win.”

There was a chorus of agreement and they lapsed into silence, only broken by the Commander’s voice and they all sat at attention when it came through. _“This is the Commander to Buccaneer Team. You’re being taken to Haiti for this mission. We’ve detected a UFO landing and want it taken out of commission as soon as possible.”_

 _“_ Haiti?” He could imagine the frown in Yvette’s voice, a sentiment he echoed. “That seems an odd location. Are they studying the contagion zones?”

 _“We don’t know the reason,”_ the Commander admitted. _“They aren’t in the zones at the moment. This is one of your objectives: Find out what the aliens are doing.”_

“Understood,” Liam acknowledged. “What terrain should we expect?”

_“They appear to have landed in the ruins of a city. Expect lots of destroyed buildings and rubble.”_

That wasn’t bad as far as terrain went. Plenty of cover and he had experience with urban combat. Likely why he’d been chosen as Squad Overseer. The main issue with bombed out, or ruined terrain was that the potential for ambushes was high.

“Enemy force estimate?” He asked as the skyranger shuddered as it hit some turbulence.

 _“Unknown,”_ the Commander answered, the frustration clear in his voice. _“This UFO is larger than the ones previously encountered. I would expect contact with outsiders and sectoids, they may decide to deploy the advanced units used in Hamburg.”_

While not ideal, he’d worked with less before. A strategy beginning to form in his mind, he continued with his questions. “Got it. How far are we being dropped?”

_“On the outskirts of the city. Enough distance for you to approach undetected.”_

Excellent. “Thank you, Commander.”

 _“Exercise caution,”_ The Commander warned. _“The aliens will no doubt be ready to defend their UFO. Especially after what they did.”_

“We’ll ensure there are no survivors.” Marten stated icily as he clutched his laser rifle.

 _“Do that.”_ The Commander agreed, contained anger underlying his tone. _“Let them see what happens when they attack us so brazenly.”_

“Yes, Commander!” They answered enthusiastically, all tension fading as they focused on the real enemy.

 _“I’ll be sending you all available information from XCOM Analysis and Communication,”_ The Commander finished. _“You know what to do. Learn what they are doing, then execute them. Citadel Command, out.”_ There was a click as the line went dead.

 _“This is Fallen Sky to Overseer Jaster,”_ the pilot told them. _“We’re about ten minutes from the drop zone. Prepare accordingly.”_

“Copy, Fallen Sky.” Liam acknowledged. He reached up and unstrapped himself and leaned forward.

“Listen up,” he instructed the squad as they focused on him. “Once we deploy, follow my lead and _stay_ _together_. Ruins are idea for ambushes and death traps for anyone wandering alone. We’re going to draw as little attention as possible and gain every advantage we can. Do _not_ attack without my order, no matter how good a shot you have. We have the element of surprise. We will not squander it. Understood?”

“Yes, Overseer!” They answered. He stood up and grasped his rifle.

“Then get ready.” All of them stood, and grabbed their weapons with clicks and hisses. Liam traded places with Marten, taking the front and steadied himself as the skyranger began noticeably dipping. His breathing controlled, he relaxed as the mental timer in his head continuously counted down.

 _“Deployment in thirty!”_ Came the voice of Fallen Sky.

He took several steps towards the exit in anticipation as the squad tentatively followed him. With a hiss the ramp opened up and he was suddenly overlooking a ruined city of shattered concrete and scattered rubble. It was oddly beautiful as the sun was peaking over the horizon. Sunrises usually had that effect.

Ropes dropped down and he motioned forward. “Deploy!” He shouted and charged down the ramp, hooked himself onto the rope and dropped. As the wind rushed past him while he dropped, he admired the scene of the fiery light reflecting off the stones.

***

Liam’s boots hit the ground with a crunch, the rest of the squad fell behind him a few seconds later. The ropes retracted and the skyranger zoomed off. “Lock down vocoders.” He ordered. They all nodded in affirmation, and complied. “Citadel Command, this is Squad Overseer Jaster. We’ve touched down, ready to proceed on your order.”

_“You are cleared. Good luck.”_

Liam took a solid look around. There weren’t any intact structures larger than one story still standing and even those were dilapidated and crumbling into rubble. However, there was plenty of cover and they could move safely through it.

The brown stones that littered the ground were either massive or very small, so footing would not be much of a concern. He would have liked some sort of height advantage to scout ahead, but he didn’t want to risk one of the roofs collapsing if he ordered someone on top of it.

He motioned forward into the ruined city. “Find cover and stay there. We’re approaching this methodically. Do not move until I give the order. Me and Marten will take point,” He pointed left to the shell of what had once been a house. “Yvette, Simon, take the left, stay slightly behind my position.” He pointed to a crumbling wall on the right. “Trejo, Gandy, take right, same orders.”

“Yes, Overseer,” they nodded as they dashed to their positions. Liam took cover behind a fallen column with Marten crouched beside him. Weapon raised, he scanned the immediate, clustered vicinity. Nothing but rubble and dust.

“What happened here?” Marten muttered as he looked around the ruins, rifle raised for any signs of alien activity. “Did people actually _live_ here? I thought this country was uninhabited.”

Right. The kid was pretty young. Not to mention, if he grew up in Iran, outside information was probably restricted. He sighed, trying to best explain this before moving forward. “The country was struck by an earthquake many years ago,” Liam explained, as he made preparations to move forward. “I imagine this is one of the towns that was destroyed by it.” He paused. “And yes, people used to live here. Let’s just say that regime change often has consequences. And unchecked diseases are deadly to third world populations.”

Marten clearly wanted to inquire further, but Liam held up a fist to forestall further question. “I’ll tell you later. We have a mission.”

Marten nodded forward. “Right.”

Liam looked to his left and right, making sure everyone was in cover. “Move forward,” he ordered as he ran towards another shell of a building. Taking a position beside and unfinished doorframe, he raised his weapon and peered out. Nothing.

“Listen!” Yvette stated as she looked around, weapons raised. All of them paused and a few seconds later, Liam heard it. A low unnatural humming. The sound of a UFO. He looked at all of them.

“We’re close,” he stated, looking forward. “Be ready.”

Making sure it was clear, he charged through the doorway to another wall and the rest of the squad followed up behind him. The humming was louder now, and he could _feel_ a faint pulsing through his armor. It was disconcerting.

“Move forward,” he ordered quietly. “On the ground.” He lowered himself onto the gravel and dust and began inching forward. As the sun was rising and they weren’t camouflaged, this would only work for a little while longer, but he just needed to get into sight of the UFO.

“I feel kinda bad about scratching this,” Marten muttered as he crawled through, arms and armor caked with dust. “Shen worked so hard.”

“If armor doesn’t have scratches,” Liam commented. “You’re either a very good soldier or a coward.”

Marten grunted but didn’t complain further as the pulsing waves became more intense. Crawling over a pile of rubble, he got a first good look at the UFO.

Citadel Command had been right. This UFO was much larger than the last one. _Much_ larger. It kept the same basic shape, but enlarged. There was still one entrance shielded by the multicolored layer and the fields curving down on the corners were still working. He frowned under his helmet, trying to figure out the best approach.

It had flattened all the dilapidated structures around it, though there was some cover between them and the UFO. “Anything?” He asked the squad.

“Nothing over here.” Yvette informed him.

“Same,” Gandy also confirmed.

Something wasn’t right here. The last time there had been some semblance of movement and even the crashed UFO’s had been swarming with alien activity. So why not this one. “Citadel Command,” he called in, hoping they had something. “Do you have life signatures around my position?”

 _“Checking,”_ came the response, Bradford’s voice. _“No. We can’t get a clear reading. The signature from the UFO is interfering with our equipment.”_

He cursed under his breath. “Understood, we’ll make do.”

“Orders, Overseer?” Yvette asked, her weapon trained on the entrance.

He scowled. This was clearly a trap. They wanted to draw them out so they’d lose the element of surprise. Well, he wasn’t going to fall for it so easily. “We wait. Concentrate your weapons on the UFO. Let them make the first move.”

There was a chorus of acknowledgement as they kept their weapons at the ready, tense and prepared for anything that was thrown at them.

Then they waited.

And waited.

Close to fifteen minutes passed before Liam began to re-evaluate his strategy.

“They might not know we’re here.” Simon commented as he scanned the nearby ruins for the eighth time.

“I’m not an expert of their equipment,” Liam answered grimly as he kept his weapon trained on the entrance. “But I’d be surprised if they failed to detect the skyranger approaching. Especially if it’s not damaged.”

“Then what are they waiting for?” Trejo muttered in a frustrated tone.

“They want us to make this first move,” Liam answered. “As long as we have the element of surprise, we have the advantage.”

“Not much of an advantage if they never show.” Marten muttered.

He tended to agree. But impatience would kill them just as easily as the aliens. “Just wait,” he encouraged them. “They’ll grow tired soon enough.”

Five more minutes passed when Simon raised a fist. “Look!” he gestured with the weapon at the entrance. The shield covering the entrance receded and an outsider, flanked by two…creatures walked out.

“What is _that_?” Yvette muttered in astonishment. Liam wasn’t sure what she was referring to. Both were equally worrying.

The outsider appeared to be aesthetically the same as usual, but it’s crystalline body was…darker, a deeper shade or orange.

It was also twice as tall as the creatures beside it. He estimated it around at least ten feet high. Instead of the regular plasma weapon, it carried a rifle almost as tall as he was, and based on the size of the barrel and multiple venting ports, he assumed it was an automatic version of a plasma rifle.

The creatures beside it were completely new. Clad in green armor that appeared to be made out of the same alloys Shen used to create their own armor, they appeared to be well built and taller than he was. Their faces were pink-skinned, weathered, and had some sort of respirator covering their mouths and nose. Their beady yellow eyes held both a primal rage and bestial intelligence.

Their weapons also appeared to be a plasma rifle of some kind. Not nearly as massive as the one wielded by the outsider, but just as deadly, he imagined.

 _“Exercise caution,”_ the voice of the Commander warned. _“We haven’t encountered this species before.”_

He snorted. Clearly. “Copy that,” he said sarcastically.

“I’ve got a shot on the right alien,” Trejo informed him in a tense, concentrated voice.

“I’ve got the left,” Yvette also told him.

“Rest of you, focus on the outsider,” Liam instructed as the trio moved forward. “Fire on my command.”

The aliens marched forward, weapons raised as they swept the ruins.

“Fire.”

Lasers sizzled through the air. Yvette and Trejo’s shots struck true and the creatures fell to the ground, smoke rising from holes it their foreheads. The outsider froze in place as four lasers bored into it. The orange energy within it began building up, only increasing when two additional beams added to the sustained fire. But instead of attacking, it pointed in their general direction before it shattered from the combined energy of all the lasers.

There was silence on the battlefield.

“That was too easy.” Marten muttered as he placed a new power pack in his weapon.

He heard Yvette sigh. “You had to say it.”

Her words were proven correct as a few seconds later four more…creatures roared out the entrance, jets blazing. Liam blinked at be began aiming at the flying creatures. They appeared to be the same species as the green clad aliens, but _drastically_ altered.

The faces were a mishmash of metal implants, instead of a body, it had some sort of propulsion system. It’s arms were mostly cybernetics and it wielded the plasma carbines the thin men used. What little skin was shown was completely mixed with metal and the eyes of the creatures held no intelligence, just rage and pain.

They wasted no time firing at them. As plasma blast rained down around them, Liam raised his own in response. “Fire at will!” Lasers filled the sky as the flying aliens proved nimble in dodging their lasers. Yvette scored a hit that bisected one and the next closest one roared and Liam looked in dismay as four more joined the fight.

Realizing how much danger they were now in, he quickly targeted the closest to their flank. “Don’t let them flank us!” He roared as he blasted one out of the sky. “If they get behind us we’re dead!”

“More are coming!” Marten shouted and Liam looked to see…No…. _six_ of the green clad aliens coming their way. One pounded it’s chest and roared, a yellow gas seeping from the respirator.

As they began taking cover and firing at them, the flying aliens took the opportunity and flew around them, weapons blazing with deadly fire. “Focus on the flankers!” Liam yelled as he turned his fire toward the two coming down on Trejo and Gandy. He blasted one, but the three simply focused fire on Trejo and fired.

The armor took two shots before cracking and a green blast of plasma slammed into his helmet, instantly killing him. Gandy leapt back in an attempt to avoid the plasma fire, but even after Liam took out two more, he wasn’t quick enough to save Gandy from being blasted twice in the face.

He bisected the alien in two, but it was hardly a victory. “We’re down two!” He yelled as he assessed the new situation. Miraculously, Yvette and Simon had managed to live, probably with some help from Marten.

Damn it. Except for the fact that Yvette was now missing an arm, they weren’t in _bad_ condition. But to make matters worse, the creatures had taken advantage of the flying alien’s distraction and were frighteningly close to them. The walls he was using for cover were being slowly chipped apart from the constant barrage of plasma fire.

“We need to fall back!” He yelled as be began attempting to lay down some suppressing fire.

“There’s too many!” Yvette half yelled-screamed as blood and melted skin dripped from the stump of her arm. She was still taking shots with her pistol, singing the armor of the aliens. The lasers _did_ seem to be doing some damage to the armor, cracks and black scorches appeared where they struck, but it wasn’t nearly enough damage fast enough.

Liam looked back to the entrance of the UFO and things went from bad to worse. One of the sectoids with an augmented arm, a leader, he supposed, flanked by two regular outsiders strode out. It pointed and the outsiders leapt into action.

They needed to leave. This whole mission was a setup. It was a trap.

“Fall back!” He yelled. “Fallen Sky, we need an evac! ASAP!”

 _“ETA five minutes!”_ Came the reply. He nodded and motioned at the aliens. “Throw any grenades you have and retreat! We’re leaving!”

He heard roars and witnessed one of the aliens collapse in a pool of yellow blood. He melted the face of another when he heard a horrifying scream. “Grenade!” Marten screamed as one of the aliens tossed a something towards the cover of Yvette and Simon.

A flash of green energy disintegrated the concrete wall they were hiding behind. They began running back but Liam watched helplessly as plasma bolts slammed into them. Yvette’s head was taken completely off by a plasma blast and Simon was slammed to the ground as multiple plasma bolts tore into his back.

“Go!” Simon choked out as the plasma residue ate into him. Liam dropped a smoke grenade and grabbed Marten by the arm and practically threw him towards the direction outside the city.

Plasma bolts flying past his head he dashed haphazardly through the ruined and continuously crumbling city. “Citadel Command!” He yelled as bolt flew past him, dust flying up where they hit. “Enact the Zeus Contingency on my position! Now!”

 _“Acknowledged.”_ The voice of Bradford answered. _“Deploying Ravens.”_

He screamed as a plasma bolt tore into his leg and he stumbled to the ground. The armor appeared to have absorbed the worst of it, but it still stung and he felt the residue eat into his skin. Marten yanked him up and began supporting him as the aliens bore down on them.

“Come on!” Marten yelled at him. “Only a little farther!”

Liam gritted his teeth as the glorious sound of the skyranger roared overhead. He grunted as another bolt hit his back and he stumbled, almost letting go of Marten. The young Iranian aimed back with his laser pistol as they ran and managed to shoot one of the creatures in the face, killing it.

They dashed onto the skyranger ramp, boots clanking on the metal as green bolts slammed into the skyranger.

“Take off!” Liam yelled to Fallen Sky. “Take off now!”

Marten threw him to the metal floor of the skyranger and began firing his laser rifle as the skyranger started rising. Liam thought he heard one of those creatures roar in pain and then heard Marten’s yell of triumph.

“Get down!” He yelled at the kid, not wanting him to die in some vain attempt at glory.

Marten nodded and backed away from the entrance as the ramp closed and the skyranger sped off. Liam dragged himself to the wall and forced himself into a sitting position and tried to stay conscious. His vision flickered and he saw Marten sink into one of the seats, head in his hands.

 _“This is Raven Four to Citadel Command.”_ One of the pilots broadcasted. _“Target site has been destroyed. Hostiles on the ground confirmed dead. The UFO took off before we could substantially damage it. Returning to the Citadel.”_

A sick chuckle forced its way out. Of course it had gotten away.

It wasn’t like this mission could turn out any differently.

His last thought before he lost consciousness was wishing he could have saved his soldiers.

But he hadn’t. And now most of them were dead.

***

After-Action Report

Operation: Vengeful Hawk

_Personnel:_

Buccaneer 1 _(Squad Overseer)_ : Specialist Liam Jaster

            **Status:** Wounded (Estimated Seven Days)

 **Kills:** 4

Buccaneer 2: Specialist Yvette Estrada

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Kills:** 3

Buccaneer 3: Specialist Marten El-Amin

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 5

Buccaneer 4: Private Jo Simon

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Kills:** 3

Buccaneer 5: Private Sol Gandy

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Kills:** 3

Buccaneer 6: Private Jae Trejo

            **Status:** Deceased

 **Kills:** 2

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Tristen Ward – Call sign: “Fallen Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

None: Mission failed

 


	26. Pressure Points

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

There was silence in the Situation Room as the screen tracked the skyranger flying back. The Commander stood expressionless as thoughts and theories about these new aliens rushed through his mind.

“It was a trap.” He finally said, breaking the silence as he turned to the rest of the Internal Council standing around the holotable. “And I let them walk right into it.”

Bradford bowed his head. “The failure is mine, Commander, we should have detected the abnormal amount of aliens.”

The Commander raised a hand, preventing him from saying more. “No. The aliens were jamming your equipment for a reason. The clues were all there, I just didn’t put them together quickly enough.”

“Not entirely true,” Van Doorn pointed out, brow furrowing. “If I recall, you suspected it might be a trap.”

The Commander sighed. “I _always_ prepare for a trap. But that was just a theory. Had I put the pieces together I would have handled the mission differently.” The Commander rubbed his head, the strain and sleeplessness of the past few days weighing down on him.

“At least it wasn’t a total loss,” Zhang reminded them. “Jaster and El-Amin managed to make it out. They were arguably the most important.”

“We lost four soldiers,” Shen interjected with a hard glare at the expressionless man. “Regardless of their worth, our reserves are dangerously low. We can’t keep losing soldiers at this rate and continue to wage an effective war.”

“Agreed,” The Commander nodded. “We can’t afford another loss like this right now.” He glanced over at Shen. “Can the equipment we lost be replaced?”

Shen picked up his tabled and scrolled through it. “It depends on where you want to devote our attention to,” he answered hesitantly. “We can replace what we lost within a few days, but that would mean postponing our dismantling of that mechanical disk.”

The Commander frowned. Not an easy decision, they needed to know more about what they were facing, but at the same time, that gear might be essential as the war went on. He looked around the room. “Opinions.”

“We need to replace our losses,” Van Doorn stated immediately, crossing his arms. “With more soldiers arriving within the day, we need the best equipment possible.”

“I agree,” Zhang nodded. “The dismantling can wait.”

The Commander looked at the engineer. “Shen?”

Shen motioned toward Zhang and Van Doorn. “I agree. Our soldiers should be given priority. We can delay the dismantling for a few days.”

“If the need is urgent, my teams could assist in the dismantling,” Vahlen added, scrolling down her own tablet. “We’re wrapping up our autopsies of the thin men and alien animals, but we could delay those if needed.”

The Commander shook his head. “No. We need answers from those,” he told her. Then nodded at Shen. “Replace our losses.”

“Yes, Commander.”

The Commander began imputing commands into the holotable. “This was a defeat. No question. But I think we could still learn something from the footage from the battle.” A holographic recreation of part of the battlefield in front of the UFO came up and the Commander zoomed in on the armored aliens.

Van Doorn frowned as he observed the creatures. “Based on their armor and weapons, I would theorize them to be shock troops of some kind.”

“Their armor certainly gives that inclination,” Shen agreed.

“That might be the best case scenario,” the Commander warned. “These might just be their standard soldiers.”

“Damn,” Bradford muttered, resting his hand on his chin. “You’re right. We haven’t seen a traditional infantry unit from them before.”

“If you could call this at all _traditional_.” Shen muttered.

“The aliens aren’t holding back now,” the Commander stated. “I imagine this is only the beginning of what’s to come.”

“Then we’ll have to exploit them,” Zhang stated and pointed at one of the alien’s faces. “Unprotected faces. Vulnerable to corrosive agents. Acid weapons could be useful.”

“Look at the respirators,” Vahlen pointed to their mouths and noses. “Something on our planet might be toxic to them.”

“Or they could just be prepared against airborne attacks,” Van Doorn countered, looking at her. “Our own soldiers employ the same tech and they can breathe the air just fine.”

“I’ll need one of the bodies for testing,” Vahlen muttered, more to herself. “I’m certain I could find out.”

“The outsiders also appear to becoming more advanced,” Zhang noted as he looked at towering outsider.

The Commander frowned. “Yes. But they still appear to retain the same weaknesses. The thing that is worrying about them is how easily they can get out of control. One or two can be handled. If the aliens deploy them with other forces, _that_ ’s when they become dangerous. The size doesn’t concern me, the entourage does.”

With a few taps, the Commander changed the scene until it showed the flying aliens. He looked over at Shen. “Impressions?”

The man’s eyes flashed as he took in the horrific melding of metal and flesh. “The amount of modification…” he began before trailing off. “This shouldn’t be possible.”

Vahlen glanced over, frowning. “It is certainly possible, doctor. Not nearly as advanced as this, certainly, but possible nonetheless.”

“Replacing most of the body with mechanical implants?” Shen countered incredulously. “ _And_ keeping the subject alive? I highly doubt that.”

Vahlen opened her mouth, presumably to protest then abruptly stopped. The Commander didn’t fail to notice and raised an eyebrow. “Vahlen? Do you have something to suggest otherwise?”

She pursed her lips. “Remember that project I was involved in before XCOM?”

“Yes,” he recalled. “You were conducting experiments on biological and genetic warfare.”

Shen looked at her in surprise as did Bradford. “You did what?” Shen questioned, turning to her.

“That isn’t important now,” she scowled. “The point is that at one point, a section of my group opened an investigation into the conversion of humans into augmented cyborgs.”

Van Doorn raised an eyebrow. “An experiment on that scale and with that goal couldn’t have been approved by the UN. I would have known.”

“Because it wasn’t,” she stated hotly. “But over the course of a year, they took one man, and systematically replaced his major functions with mechanical alternatives.”

Shen looked horrified. “How was that possible?”

“I wasn’t part of that group,” Vahlen clarified. “But it was slow and gradual. They first took the limbs, as they were easiest to replace. They did it one limb at a time. Once that was done, they began the process of replacing the torso.”

“Did they succeed?” Bradford asked, eyes wide.

Vahlen frowned. “Yes…and no. They managed to augment and armor the entire torso while still keeping the major bodily functions intact. By the end, he really couldn’t do much as the pain had essentially rendered him paralyzed. He eventually went insane from the pain and died soon after.”

“Jesus.” Van Doorn muttered. “I assume nothing else came of that?”

She shook her head. “It was deemed too impractical and expensive, so they shut down that branch,” she looked at Shen. “But my point was that it _is_ possible.”

Shen rubbed his head. “I stand corrected, doctor.”

“I’ll instruct the soldiers to make efforts to bring some of those creatures back for you to study,” the Commander promised Vahlen. “I think we could learn much from them.”

He looked up at all of them. “This was a setback, but we have to move forward. We’ll have to be very careful in the future but we can’t let these defeats impair us. I’ll be speaking to each of you later. Dismissed.”

Each of them saluted and filed out of the room, barring Vahlen. Walking up to him, she stopped a few feet away and crossed her arms. “You look terrible.”

He gave her a grim smile. “I believe you. But I’ve been too busy to really do anything about it.” She furrowed her brow.

“Going three days without sleep is too much,” she stated, worry tinting her voice. “Even I draw the line somewhere.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Then take this opportunity,” she implored him, clasping his hand in hers. “You’re no good to any of us if you can’t think straight.”

“Probably true,” he admitted. “But I know that even if I do sleep, I won’t rest.”

“What does that mean?” She asked, frowning.

He gently dropped her hand and moved the other in a circular motion. “It’s complicated,” he sighed. “Whenever I sleep now I…dream…I suppose that’s the right description.”

She cocked her head, but didn’t make any comments. “Not really a big deal, I know,” he continued slowly. “But I remember _everything_. Everything I’ve ever done appears, I face people I killed, see the results of the orders I’ve given. The whole time mocked and challenged by one person, usually my wife.”

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “I had no idea.”

“I generally don’t tell people,” he answered, the corners of his lips turning up. “Not really good for morale.”

She nodded, then she raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Your _wife_?” she recalled, apparently just realizing that. “I didn’t know you were married.”

He gave a sad smile. “I was. But not anymore.”

“May I ask what happened?” She asked softly.

“She died.”

Vahlen stepped back. “I’m sorry.” She told him softly. He got the impression it wasn’t just from asking that question. He wasn’t completely blind.

He smiled at her. “Don’t be,” he assure her, taking her hand. “I wouldn’t have told you if it was an issue.”

“I suppose so,” she said softly, taking a step closer. They stood in silence for a few seconds. “You should still take a break,” Vahlen told him, her eyes still filled with concern. “Maybe not sleep, but just do…something else.”

He gave her a solemn nod. “Very well. I’ll do that.”

She let go of his hand and stepped back. “I’ll see you later then,” She told him.

He smiled. “That you will. Thank you, Moira.”

Now she smiled at him. “Anytime, Commander.” And with that, she walked out the door, leaving him alone.

***

_The Citadel_

The Commander stretched and rubbed his eyes. That had been a welcome break, but now it was time to get back to work. He put down the tablet down and contemplated how pointless all the mundane activities people did for distraction really were. The fact that he couldn’t remember what he was doing before was a testament to that.

But it had taken his mind off the past few days and that had been a goal. Standing up, he walked past his bed and picked up his glass of water and took a long drink. He made a face. It was warm and he _despised_ warm water. But he supposed it was his own fault for not getting some ice or chilling it in the first place. Setting it down, he frowned as he saw a small red strand in the water.

Kneeling down, he took a closer look and cocked his head. If he didn’t know better, it looked like blood. Odd, he didn’t recall biting his mouth and his teeth hadn’t had any issues before. Rising back up, he shrugged and dismissed it from his mind. It wasn’t a mystery worth solving.

He opened the door from his bedroom and into his office. Everything appeared in order and he sat down at his desk. Settling in, he opened an intercom to Bradford. “Central, anything new?”

 _“No. Commander.”_ Bradford sounded different. More hollow and artificial. Likely audio distortion.

“Good,” he answered, nodding to himself. “I-“

 _“You need to come down here.”_ Bradford interrupted.

The Commander’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

_“You will see.”_

_Now_ something was odd. Bradford was acting strangely and the Commander was getting a sneaking suspicion as to why. “Bradford-“

The line went to static. The Commander opened a line to Shen, Zhang, Vahlen. All were static. Wishing he was wrong, he looked down at his leg and saw the laser pistol strapped to it.

“Damn it.” He sighed out loud.

He was dreaming.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. He did _not_ want to deal with this now, but it seemed that he had no choice. He supposed his body had to give in eventually and taking Vahlen’s wish to take a break had apparently lulled him to sleep.

He pushed himself up from the chair. Well, best to see what his subconscious wanted to say this time. Walking over to door he did not expect it to slide open. And what laid in the hallway was a nightmare. Bodies of men, women and children littered the hallway. Bloodied, dismembered and crushed, they only had one thing in common.

Their eyes bored into him, and moved with him.

It was disconcerting. Even in a dream, having dozens of dead eyes following you was hardly pleasant. At least their heads didn’t turn with him.

He followed the hallways, though the more he walked, the more he had the feeling that he was being led. Doors shut by themselves, the entrances were blocked by corpses, and there was only one path available.

Up.

And up he went. Now the bodies were changing. They were no longer just nameless civilians. He saw the bodies of military, law enforcement and XCOM soldiers began appearing as well. He didn’t look too closely at the XCOM bodies. He had a feeling they would be showing up later.

He saw light at the end and kept walking forward. But instead of reaching Mission Control, he found himself outside, on the outskirts of a burning city. Hamburg, Berlin, Cologne, he didn’t know, but he could hear screams, gunfire and explosions echoing from the nameless city.

“So many lives sacrificed to stop us,” an oily, smooth voice greeted and the Commander turned to see a thin man. He appeared to be different than the ones he’d seen on the battlefield. He was somewhat taller, the proportions more human, though still on the thin side. He was dressed impeccably, with black pants, shoes and suit.

His neck still bore the discolored spots, but they were less noticeable and the high collar of the suit also helped conceal them. The wavy hair was combed and orderly, just falling past his ears, and lacked the unnatural sheen the thin men’s hair usually had.

His face was flawless, bearing a warm smile, if somewhat patronizing. But when the features were positioned right, it could perform the human expressions of sincerity and compassion perfectly. They eyes were still concealed with black spectacles, but the Commander believed they were relaying some kind of information, judging from the thin, scrolling blue lines he saw on inside of the right lens.

He wanted nothing more than to blast that alien into dust. “I didn’t expect to see something like you here.”

The alien smirked and inclined his head, in something resembling respect. “You attracted our attention.”

“I am so honored.” he bit out sarcastically.

“Your species is curious,” the alien mused. “The lengths some of you go to purge anything different is remarkable.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “I am not reflective of most of humanity. But you already know this.”

“I must admit some personal curiosity,” the alien continued, looking at him. “Do you truly believe you saved anyone with your actions? How many are dying as a result of you refusing to accept defeat?”

“Less than those who would die under your rule.” He shot back.

“Are you not making assumptions,” the creature asked with a smile, hands clasped behind it’s back. “You know nothing about us.”

The Commander turned slowly to face him fully. “You attacked a city and slaughtered thousands of people,” he hissed, jabbing a finger. “You’ve abducted countless more for whatever experiments you’re running! Don’t you _dare_ try to say otherwise!”

The infuriating alien simply smiled. “A fair point, human. We saw an opportunity and took advantage. I sure you can understand. After all, if your actions have proven anything, it’s that you would have done exactly the same.”

“I only involve civilians as a last resort!” he defended, disliking the point his subconscious was trying to make.

“As do we,” the alien countered smoothly. “You forced our hand when you abducted our instruments.”

“As the German government forced mine,” the Commander spat back. “What is your point?”

“Because there is a…misunderstanding between us,” the alien explained smoothly. “You assume we are here to conquer you. That is incorrect.”

The Commander’s eyes widened in disbelief. Out of what he expected this dream to be about, this was certainly _not_ it. “Is that right,” he said skeptically, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Then do tell why you _are_ here.”

“We seek only to help your species,” the alien said, spreading is hands out in emphasis. “Working with us, humanity could recognize its true potential.”

“Really,” the Commander answered, not bothering to hide how little of this he was buying. “If that is, ah, _actually_ your reason, why not just come in peace from the start?”

“We are not fools, Commander,” the alien said in a patronizing tone. “We’ve watched your species. You do not accept sudden change easily. It happens slowly, and even when shown evidence otherwise, you have a tendency to cling to your beliefs, no matter how archaic.” The alien paused and began pacing.

“Germany was to be the first proof that our ultimate intentions were peaceful,” he continued. “The people would have experienced a new standard of living unprecedented in your species history.”

“Under your benevolent rule, no doubt.” The Commander pointed out.

“We would guide them, certainly,” the alien nodded. “But the humans would retain their autonomy.”

“Then explain to me the abductions,” the Commander challenged. “Your meddling in Germany, the Hamburg attack? I don’t know if this concept means the same to you, but those aren’t the actions of a force interested in the betterment of humanity.”

“Consider this,” the alien countered, his smile unwavering. “If we are intent on conquering your species as you believe, why have we not already done so? We have the means but have held back. Because regardless of what you believe, we are not interested in the extermination of your species.”

The Commander pursed his lips. “Take some advice. Leave. Explain exactly what to do for us to be considered “uplifted” or whatever word you want to use. Humanity will rise on its own, _without_ your interference. We will not follow a path _you_ choose for us, we will forge our _own_. We do not need, or want, your _help_.”

“As you have stated not to be typical of humans,” the alien responded, undeterred. “I hardly think you’re in a position to speak for them.”

This conversation had gone on long enough. “I’ve tolerated your _justifications_ long enough,” he stated at the alien. “Leave.” He expected the specter to vanish as those in his dreams did when ordered.

Except he didn’t, he just stood there. Cocking his head to the right and smiling.

The Commander frowned. “Leave.” He ordered.

Nothing happened.

“I fail to see what you’re trying to do-“ the alien stopped as stepped back as the Commander focused every bit of energy on the alien before him. It’s eyes widened in surprise as the skin around it’s mouth started growing and closing around the lips.

“I don’t know what you are,” the Commander stated, slowly, calmly as the alien’s compose finally faltered and it began clawing at the smooth skin where it’s mouth had been. “But this is _my_ dream. I tolerate my subconscious to a point and I will not listen to your _reasons_ for attacking us. For such a _peaceful_ species you have certainly perfected how to kill us quite easily. I’ve lost soldiers to your forces, most of them likely died painfully.”

A grim smile played across his lips. “It’s only fitting that you die in a similar fashion.” Greenish mist rose from the ground and trapped the thin man in it’s cloud. The acid began eating away at the alien but it seemed oddly unconcerned, not even showing signs of pain or anguish. It raised it’s arm and appraised it while the acid ate into it, seemingly more curious than anything. As the eyes of the alien began disintegrating, there almost seemed to be amusement in them.

For what seemed like hours he watched the alien slowly disintegrate into a small puddle of flesh and yellow blood on the ground, then the stripped skeleton finally fell to the ground and shattered. And the instant the head disconnected from the body he woke up.

***

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

He jerked up with a start.

Blinking rapidly, he took a quick glimpse at his surroundings and everything appeared in order. _Actually_ in order.

What the hell was that?

To his knowledge, that was the first time he’d dreamed without Farida showing up. For that matter, it was also the first time someone not directly connected with him had been the focal point required to end the dream.

It seemed wrong. What had caused it?

Then the alien specter hadn’t left when ordered and that troubled him most of all. The creature had eventually succumbed to his will, true. But that had never happened before. And some of the things the alien had said…he was pretty sure he’d never heard before. Or perhaps his subconscious was just making up stuff now? That might explain it…but still…it was odd.

He shook his head and stood up. A mystery for another time, banishing what the alien had said from his mind, he exited his room and went to his desk. Despite the strangeness of the dream, he felt much better than before, his mind far clearer.

His intercom buzzed and he answered. “Yes?”

 _“Commander, glad you’re awake,”_ Bradford answered. _“Vahlen told me you were taking a break.”_

“Yes,” the Commander agreed, glancing at the time. “Though I didn’t intend for it to be this long.”

 _“You need it more than any of us,”_ Bradford dismissed. _“But I have something we need to discuss. Alone.”_

The Commander raised an eyebrow at that. Interesting. Bradford wouldn’t waste his time, best see what it is. “Very well. Come up to my office when you can.”

_“On my way now, Commander.”_

The line clicked off.

Hmm. What could he possibly have that was worth speaking to him privately about? Something about the Council? No, that could be shared with the rest of the Internal Council. Perhaps it was…hmm. Maybe. Bradford wasn’t an idiot, it was possible.

In the meantime, he’d review their current funds and resources.

The loss of Germany was a blow, but they weren’t close to the highest funding Council member nation. Anything lost was supplemented by Israel, who was providing funds comparable to Russia. It was still a net loss, but one that could have been worse. Once the Germany military secured the country, he expected it would return to normal, if not increase.

On the material side, their stores of alloys and fragment was getting low, thanks to the unexpected replacement of gear, but not dangerously so. What they did _not_ lack were containers of the yellow substance, they had a considerable amount of that and still didn’t know what it did. Once Vahlen finished researching the corpses that should probably be the next project.

The door hissed open and he glanced up to see Bradford walking in, the young man looking as professional as ever. He inclined his head. “Bradford, what can I do for you?”

Bradford paused in front of his desk, before finally sitting down. As the seconds dragged on he looked more uncertain. The Commander cocked his head. “There was something you wanted to discuss?”

“Yes…” Bradford agreed, frowning. “Though I’m not sure the best way to say it.”

The Commander sighed. “Just be direct. You should know that by now.”

“Well, ok,” Bradford paused. “We should discuss your…excursions.”

The Commander rested his arms on the table. “Sorry?”

Bradford sighed. “I’m not an idiot, Commander. I review every mission report and it hasn’t escaped my attention that several of them have supposedly five member squads. And since we _don’t_ send out five member squads that was the first sign something was off. Not to mention there are only a few people who can directly alter mission reports.”

The Commander motioned him to continue. “Then I’ve heard about the sniper,” Bradford continued. “One that no one knows about, who _also_ conveniently happens to be on said missions. And on most of them, the objective was a little more important than a UFO raid or abduction. Zhang, Van Doorn, the missions were always important and you were always in charge of putting together the squad being deployed.”

“Interesting,” the Commander mused. “Anything else?”

Bradford crossed his arms. “It also struck me odd that you were surprisingly hard to reach during some of the missions. Especially during the terror attack, when you were needed the most. Almost as if you weren’t actually here.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Bradford looked nervous as he awaited his response. He knew that if he was wrong that it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Even if he _had_ been wrong, the Commander wouldn’t have been offended in the least. Based on the circumstantial evidence gathered, it did paint a pretty clear picture. Which in this case happened to be true.

“Good job,” he told Bradford. “You’re correct.”

Bradford let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not sure if I’m happy to hear that or not. Commander, with all due respect, what the hell were you thinking?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.” He answered.

Bradford clasped his hands together. “Fine. What could possibly compel you to risk yourself like this? Do you have _any_ idea how important you are?”

“Of course,” he answered nonchalantly. “But I am not irreplaceable.”

Bradford frowned. “While your modesty is admirable, that isn’t true. None of us could do what you’ve done or even considered it in the first place. What do you think would happen to XCOM if you died?”

“We developed contingencies for this,” the Commander reminded him. “Some of which covered my death.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re free to risk it like you’ve been!” Bradford exclaimed.

The Commander sighed. “While I appreciate your concern, I can take care of myself.”

“And what happens when you can’t?” He demanded. “What if you’d decided to accompany Jaster on that UFO assault? You could have died!”

“A fair point.” The Commander acknowledged.

Bradford rubbed his forehead. “Why even do it in the first place?”

The Commander paused before answering. “My first time was mostly to get a feel for how operations went on the ground. I’ve found that it’s much different than what the superiors generally envision. I dislike hands-off approaches, so I wanted to see for myself. I figured I could get a better understanding of what our soldiers needed that way than from an impersonal report.”

He took a breath. “Afterwards, I considered it as something as an assurance for the more important Council missions. I’m a fairly good shot. Missions tend to go better when I’m directly involved.”

“Why hide your identity?” Bradford asked. “Why not just accompany them once as yourself?”

“Because,” he answered grimly. “People, especially soldiers, have a tendency to treat those in authority differently than they would otherwise. Problems might be covered up to make it seem as if there are no issues when in reality the opposite is true. Then there is the issue of people placing their lives before you, even if they shouldn’t. It’s a systemic problem with military culture, one I wanted to avoid.”

“But the issue with that reasoning is that you _are_ valuable.” Bradford insisted. “That might be a decent reason, but you shouldn’t say you’re like any of us because you’re not.”

The Commander leaned forward and sighed. “I hear this argument get brought up before and I don’t entirely understand it. The truth, Bradford, is that I’m not any more intelligent or valuable than you. The only reason people think so is because I exploit human psychology and culture repeatedly. Am I a decent field commander? Sure. But I’m not the only one in the world.”

The Commander tapped on the desk. “What separates me from most isn’t my intelligence or some revolutionary method of thinking. It’s that I consider things that no one else will. People often come up with radical solutions to problems, but either dismiss them or lack the willpower to follow through. The Hades Contingency is not a hard concept to grasp or come up with. But anything resembling it would be immediately removed since most of us view that as abhorrent, regardless of its necessity.”

“That doesn’t change my point,” Bradford insisted. “Because as you said, no one else would have run XCOM as you have.”

“I agree,” the Commander nodded. “But don’t say I’m irreplaceable simply because I’m smarter than everyone else.”

Bradford leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist. “Are you going to continue?”

“My, ah, _excursions_?”

“Yes. Because if so, you need to tell the rest of the Internal Council. We have a right to know what you’re doing.”

There was silence for a few seconds, then the Commander nodded. “You’re right.”

Bradford tried to mask his surprise, but didn’t do a good job. The Commander snorted. “You thought I was going to refuse?”

“Kind of,” Bradford admitted.

“That would be foolish,” the Commander shook his head. “Rest assured that if I ever do that, I’ll inform everyone first. But as it stands, my sniper persona is likely going to be retired for the time being.”

“Why the sudden change?” Bradford asked, cocking his head.

“Because I don’t want another situation like the terror assault,” the Commander stated grimly. “You’re right. I should have been here. I miscalculated and didn’t think the aliens would attack the same time as the Van Doorn extraction. It was a mistake, and one I don’t want to repeat.”

“I can’t say I’m not somewhat relieved to hear that,” Bradford sighed in relief. “Your place is here anyway.”

“Perhaps,” the Commander shrugged. “But I was a special forces operative long before I became Commander of an organization.”

“Well, you should be grateful _I_ was the one who found out and not Vahlen,” Bradford commented wryly. “I doubt she would have been quite as calm.”

“I’d assume she’d be more upset that I didn’t tell anyone,” the Commander corrected. “ _Not_ that I was doing it in the first place. She’s a very practical woman, she would understand.”

The right corner of Bradford’s lip turned up. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll never find out,” the Commander commented. “Now, was there anything else?”

“Yes,” Bradford took out his tablet and began tapping. “The German military has secured most of the country, including Berlin. Defense Minister Habicht is going to make a speech in two hours.”

“I’ll tell everyone to assemble at that time,” the Commander assured him.

Bradford stood and gave his salute. “I’ll be ready, Commander. Thank you.”

He returned the salute. “Anytime, Bradford.”

***

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The Defense Minister stood on the podium with the damaged Reichstag behind him. It was a powerful image and one that was no doubt deliberate. Habicht was wearing his full dress uniform, complete with badges and medals of service. German soldiers were stationed below the podium to keep the crowd back, weapons at the ready.

The man was flanked by twelve KSK soldiers, six on each side, all with firms stances and arms clasped behind their backs. The KSK had their faces obscured by tac masks and combat goggles, their uniforms unusually ceremonial compared to the special forces garb they typically wore.

“He’s making a show of strength.” Van Doorn commented. “The KSK aren’t generally seen in public.”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” the Commander answered. “He needs it right now.”

It wasn’t just the soldiers on the stage he’d seen. From the footage shown of the crowd, soldiers permeated the area. As a result, the crowd was much quieter than normal. He doubted this was completely reflective of the state of Germany, since the Defense Minister naturally warranted more protection. But it showed how absolute their power was now.

He appeared to be starting. Resting his hands on the podium, he finally addressed the crowd. Vahlen translated like last time. “Citizens, soldiers and friends. Over the past few days our country has been subjected to an assault of which this world has never seen. Each of you have lost someone or know someone who has. This cannot, and will not stand.”

He swept his hand back. “Our former Chancellor, in his naivety, believed the best course of action was to make _peace_ with the monsters that butchered our friends and family. But he failed to account for the true monstrosities that these creatures are capable of.”

Even if he didn’t understand the language, the venom and hate in his voice was clear. “These aliens are not content to simply _accept_ our surrender. No! They seek to dominate us until we accept them as our masters. They believed that they could terrorize us and _scare_ us into submission and that is where they made their fatal error.”

He slammed a fist on the podium. “As of this day, I will devote myself and this country to destroying the alien threat once and for all! Cologne, Munich, Hamburg, Berlin! The crimes they committed will _not_ go unpunished! We will drive these creatures back to the stars they came from!”

The Commander noted with interest that murmurings had spread through the crowd, some began shouting in agreement and the sentiment was slowly catching. “We will no longer tolerate those who preach _peace_ with the aliens!” Habicht snarled. “We will no longer accept those who seek to divide us in the guise of _protest_! Make no mistake! We will purge our country of any and all sympathizers to these monsters, for we have seen their lies displayed to the world!”

The crowd cheered in response.

“I might have misheard,” Shen murmured. “But I’m pretty sure he just insinuated that free speech critical of him was not going to be tolerated.”

“We will rebuild what was destroyed!” Habicht continued passionately. “And we will wage a war against these invaders in retribution for what we lost and will join any others who wish to see these aliens purged from the face of this Earth!”

The crowd continued cheering and there appeared to be one phrase they were chanting over and over. He looked at Vahlen. “What are they saying?”

She frowned as she tried listening to the crowd. “I believe the best translation is “Death to the aliens.””

His lips turned up at that. “Good. It doesn’t appear the populace will give him many problems.”

His speech finished, the Defense Minister, and now de-facto Chancellor, exited the stage, flanked by the KSK operatives. The soldiers in the area kept the crowds contained and dispersed them orderly once he was gone. The Commander shut off the screen.

“I expect he’ll make contact in a few days,” he stated. “Once he appoints a new cabinet and has access to the finances.”

“He constructed the speech well,” Zhang commented. “He knew what would make the population side with him. Impressive.”

“To be honest, he would have had to try to mess this up.” Van Doorn pointed out. “I hope that he uses his power carefully.”

“The Council will no doubt be rushing to see if he will join the Council,” the Commander said, pulling out a tablet. “And now is the time to negate them.” He looked over. “Zhang?”

“I have his location,” Zhang nodded. “He’s a fairly high-ranking politician. It wasn’t difficult.”

Shen frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to settle my disputes with the Council now,” the Commander stated, pursing his lips. “I’m going to speak to Ali Ennor.”

“Is that a good idea?” Bradford questioned, frowning.

“I’d rather we wait for more evidence,” the Commander shook his head. “But we might not get many more opportunities in the future, especially if the aliens keep escalating their attacks. I need to completely focus on them _without_ worrying about the Council.”

“When will you leave?” Vahlen asked.

“Two hours.”

“Let’s hope we can put this behind us,” Van Doorn said. “Especially since we’re all on the same side. I’ve met him before. Convince him of the practicality of working together instead of constant infighting. He could be a powerful ally.”

“Rest assured,” he told the General darkly. “I will convince him to work with me.”

***

_The Citadel, Medical Ward_

Patricia blinked several times and groaned at the harsh white light shining from the ceiling. Her vision more or less clear, she groggily looked around the small room. Some of the standard medical monitoring equipment was beside her fairly comfortable bed. There was what she assumed a door to a restroom at the far end and to the left of that was the exit door.

There was a small table with a sink to her right and several chairs beside it. A TV hung on the wall in front of her but otherwise, the walls were a stark, bare white. She raised her left arm that was hooked up to the machines. She debated taking it off, but decided against it. Doctors got fussy when you did that and she’d no doubt caused Abby enough trouble already.

She pushed herself up, trying to feel if anything was wrong. Nothing _felt_ off and she appeared to retain full control over her limbs. Nice to know. She twisted her arms around trying to see if there were any marks. Nothing.

Well, she was pretty sure the outsider shards hadn’t done any permanent damage, so that was good to know. Settling back into the bed, she wondered what had happened afterward. She assumed Van Doorn was now back with the UN, or at the very least here. It depended how long she’d been out.

She hoped she hadn’t missed much. Plenty of time to catch up though, so she refrained from calling someone in. She reached for a remote and turned on the TV. It’d be interesting to see what the American news stations were talking about. Probably speculation about the presidential race coming up. It wasn’t as if there was _actually_ anything else worth talking about at the moment.

CNN. Sure, why not? And the first headline that greeted her was written in big black letters on the bottom of the screen.

GERMAN DEFENSE MINISTER ASSUMES CONTROL OF GERMANY

She blinked. The hell? Clearly the wrong channel. She flipped to another channel, Fox News. Alright. Another title greeted her.

GERMAN MILITARY SECURES THE COUNTRY

Was she dreaming? She switched back to CNN and turned up the volume as the commentator spoke.

_“In a speech following the disastrous terrorist attacks committed by the aliens, Defense Minister Habicht has announced that he is assuming control of the country and will lead it against the alien threat.”_

She was stunned. Questions blazed through her mind. Had the aliens attacked Germany _openly_? Why was the military taking over?

The commentator was talking to some analyst. _“This change in power has come rather suddenly and without much resistance. Should we expect the United Nations to intervene?”_

The woman analyst began replying, actually sounding somewhat nervous. _“Well, the United Nations is no doubt going to speak to the de-factor Chancellor, however, with the rest of the governing body dead, there is very little that can be used against him. And at this point, there are few people that don’t want him in charge.”_

 _“But we’re receiving news of crackdowns, curfews and arrests,”_ the commentator continued. _“Surely that cannot be supported by the populace or the United Nations?”_

The analyst shook her head. _“Well, the people are scared and most of the arrests have happened to people who are supposed sympathizers to the aliens. Several high-profile activists have also been arrested and charged with treason. As long as these people are portrayed as alien sympathizers, most people will believe they deserve whatever is coming.”_

Patricia muted the channel in disbelief. So, following what she’d heard, Germany had been attacked, the ruling body had been killed and now the military had taken over? She needed answers now. Kicking off the blanket, she set her bare feet on the ground and took off the tubes and wires attached to her.

She looked around for some clothes other than her patient gown, but didn’t see any. She didn’t have time to wait around so she just went to the door and opened it. Walking down the hallway, she entered the waiting room area and stopped as she saw Marten, clad in…some kind of XCOM armor, sleeping in a chair.

If he was here that meant someone was in surgery or worse. What was going on? She went over and shook him. “Marten. Wake up!”

His eyes snapped open and his arm raised halfway before he realized who it was. Blinking several times he shook his head and gazed at her. “Patricia? What are you doing here?” Then he appeared to realize what she was wearing. “And why are you wearing that?”

She rolled her eyes. “I was _injured_ , I’d figure that you’d have known by now.”

“Well, sorry,” he snapped. “Everyone has been somewhat preoccupied recently.”

“What is going on?” She demanded. “I wake up and apparently Germany was attacked, and the military has taken over and you’re here so I can only assume someone’s in surgery.”

His mouth formed into an _O_. “Oh. Right, you were part of the team to get Van Doorn.”

“Yes,” she answered patronizingly. “I was. I assume _that_ was successful?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he answered with a dismissive wave. “Actually, he’s still here. Pretty sure he joined XCOM permanently.”

Was that so? She perked up and actually let out a smile. “That’s great!”

He didn’t look nearly as enthused. “Pull up a chair. A lot’s happened since you’ve been out.”

She listened in disbelief as he described the attack on Hamburg that had happened during the Van Doorn extraction, then when the Chancellor had effectively surrendered to the aliens, then when the aliens had decided surrendering wasn’t enough and began blacking out cities and killing the populace in an effort to subdue it.

“Why would they ever do that?” She wondered incredulously. “They’d effectively won. That doesn’t make sense.”

“They’re aliens,” Marten shrugged as if that explained it. “Maybe surrender wasn’t enough. Perhaps they just wanted to send a message.”

“In the stupidest way possible,” she muttered. “Did they think that was _actually_ going to work?”

“It backfired in any event,” Marten continued, telling of how the Germany military had effectively secured the country.

“About time,” Patricia stated. “That poor excuse for a government deserved whatever the aliens did to them. Perhaps now they’ll realize how dangerous they are.”

“After what happened, I have no doubt.” Marten agreed.

“So what happened now?” She asked, indicating the room with her eyes.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We were led into a trap. We went down to take a UFO, a large one. Only thing is that the aliens expected us and sent their newest soldiers to overwhelm us. Hulking creatures in green armor and flying mechanical-alien hybrids. Only Liam and I escaped. He’s being treated now.”

She sat back. “Damn. Who do we lose?”

“Yvette, Simon, Gandy and Trejo,” he listed off. “Mostly new soldiers but it’s a major loss either way.”

She nodded. “We can’t afford to keep losing people-“

She was cut off as the door hissed open and Abby walked in, wearing her blue XCOM surgeon uniform splattered with blood on the front. She glanced over a Patricia but otherwise didn’t seem to care. Addressing Marten, she lowered her surgeon mask. “He’ll live,” she told him. “But he’ll be out of commission for a few days.”

Marten let out a sigh of relief. “Good to hear. At least we won’t lose five.”

“Hello Patricia,” Abby greeted, turning to her. “I would say you shouldn’t be up, but we need everyone we can.”

“I don’t suppose you have my clothes?” Patricia asked hopefully.

“I’ll have some brought,” she promised and walked over to the waiting desk. “In the meantime, sign this. It’s an official release.”

Patricia sighed and filled out the form. “If what Marten’s been telling me is any indication, things aren’t good.”

“I don’t disagree,” she agreed, taking the form. “But this war is far from over.”

“Well,” Patricia stated grimly. “I hope the aliens return soon. I think it’s time for some payback.”

***

_Australia, Canberra_

Ali Ennor pulled his car into the driveway and shut it off, then leaned his head against the headrest. What a mess this was. The whole Germany debacle had been a disaster and they showed no signs of wanting to rejoin the council. He hadn’t been at the meeting, but apparently Patrick Rush had been chewed out by the new Chancellor.

He sighed. This was _not_ how everything was supposed to have gone. And to make matters worse, Germany was going to make an official alliance with XCOM. Normally, that would be fine as XCOM was still technically under the directive of the Council.

But the Commander had repeatedly made it clear with his actions and words that he was in no way answering to them. Wonderful. Now the Commander was receiving funding from Germany _and_ Israel with no Council oversight. He’d made his case, along with the others, to remove him from his position.

But he was still in the minority. Too many still supported him, and after what the aliens had done in Germany, even the more moderate members were acknowledging he was still needed.

He pursed his lips. He needed to think, he had one theory, but he had to refine it before he shared it with the others. If he could prove it, not only would the Commander be removed, he’d likely be executed like the criminal he was.

And somehow the Commander had managed to mess up even preparations for his replacement. Worse was that it was completely accidental. Thanks to Irene’s utter screw up, not only had they lost Van Doorn, the strongest candidate to replace him, the councilors on the side of the Commander were looking to remove their only representation.

Worse was that he didn’t even really blame them, and if it came to a vote, he’d feel obliged to support them. She had assured him that her personal history would not interfere and had utterly failed in that regard. He despised the Commander because of what he represented, his policies and views he held. She despised him personally. There was an important distinction, one she failed to see.

He’d worry about that _after_ dinner. Hopefully Ayla remembered he was coming in early. He opened the car door and stepped out and began walking to the door.  He paused as he heard voices inside. He scratched his neatly trimmed beard. Ayla hadn’t told him she was having people over, it must have been recent.

He shrugged and opened the door. He hung up his keys and followed the smell to the kitchen. The voice became clearer, two the sounds of his wife and daughter, he couldn’t make out the male voice…Richard? Nah, too deep.

He entered the room and his blood froze.

Leaning against the wall, in XCOM military fatigues and casually chatting with his wife, was the Commander.

“Ah, Ennor!” he greeted with a smile that only reached his lips. “Glad you made it! I was afraid our meeting was off.”

“You didn’t tell me you were meeting someone,” Ayla chided as she walked over, giving him a peck on his stunned face. “I would have made more.”

“It was recent.” He said tonelessly.

The Commander inclined his head. “No worries, Mrs. Ennor,” he assured her. “I imagine our chat won’t take too long.”

“You didn’t mention you were in working with NATO,” Ayla told him, questions in her eyes.

He cleared his throat and forced a smile. “Like I said, a recent development,” he shot a glance at the Commander. “I hope you haven’t told her anything classified.”

He waved a hand with a chuckle. “Oh, no. We’re just discussing Germany.”

“Yes,” Ayla mused as she cooked. “Awful what’s happened there. Utterly shameful that no one stepped in before it reached this point.”

“Well, I can say that I have information about who might have destabilized the country in the first place,” he told her smugly, then held up a hand forestalling her inevitable response. “Sorry, classified.”

That was not good if what he was implying was what Ali thought.

“Are you fighting the aliens?” His four year old daughter, Amy asked. The Commander knelt down to her height and Ali resisted the urge to throw this man out away from his daughter.

“I am,” he told her, in a light tone. “But it’s not easy. There’s some people that would rather see me fail than worry about the aliens. But don’t worry, I’ll fight them off.”

“Why would they want that?” Amy giggled. “That’s stupid.”

The Commander rose with a warm smile that instantly became sinister once you looked into his calculating eyes, which he now turned to Ali. “On that, we certainly agree.”

He needed to get this man away immediately. He waved his hand back. “We should talk in the study.”

The Commander motioned forward. “Lead the way.” He walked into the fairly luxurious room, bookshelves lined the walls and a solid oak desk sat in the back, a computer monitor resting on it.

Ali closed the doors behind him and locked them. Now he let the fury inside him out and whirled on the Commander. “What are you doing here?!” He snarled.

The Commander appraised him coolly, the faintest smile on his face. “Was that a question? Well, to talk. What else would I be here for?”

“How did you find me?” he demanded.

“I used Google,” he responded wryly. “You’re not exactly an unknown figure.”

“How did you _learn my name_?”

The Commander raised a finger. “I’ll get to that. Suffice to say your name came up several times from very different people. First though, do you have any listening devices?”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters because I’m going to talk about some very incriminating evidence,” he stated calmly. “Evidence I’m sure you wouldn’t like falling into the wrong hands.”

Ennor crossed his arms. “No I don’t and even if I did, you can’t blackmail me. I doubt you even have anything. I know how you operate and fear will not work on me.”

“I find that hard to believe,” the Commander answered idly, looking around the study. “In that case, let me say that I know you were involved in the initial destabilization of Germany.”

Damn it. He was afraid of that. And knowing the Commander, he was many things, but he didn’t strike him as the type to make accusations he thought were false. Which meant he probably had some kind of proof to back up his accusation. But he could salvage this. Hopefully.

He let out a disgusted snort. “That’s ludicrous.”

“I would generally agree,” he nodded. “The very _idea_ that a specific group of people hate me so much that they’d sacrifice a _country_ just to discredit me should be outside the realm of possibility.”

He’d never met the Commander before, so he didn’t know if this biting sarcasm was just a characteristic, but it still cut nonetheless. And he couldn’t make any defense without incriminating himself. The Commander frowned and took out a little device on his wrist.

“Let’s get to the point,” he said, crushing the little device he assumed was a bug. “You and I both know what you did. I see no reason to keep up this pretense.”

“Do you even _have_ anything to back up what you’re saying?” He demanded.

“I’m glad you asked,” the Commander smiled and pulled out a small tablet and began tapping. “Let’s see….ah,” his face brightened artificially. “Directly from Mr. Wernher himself.”

He turned the screen to show Ali. The footage was clearly taken in a cell of some kind. Wernher was sitting opposite the Commander. The Commander pressed the play button.

“ _Then tell me, what you were discussing with Patrick Rush.”_ The Commander

He saw Wernher let out a breath. _“How to fix our mistake.”_

 _“And what mistake was that?”_ The Commander demanded, his voice pure steel.

 _“Destabilizing Germany.”_ Wernher admitted in a rush.

Wernher had been reliable. He shouldn’t have broken this easily. Ali couldn’t see any signs of physical abuse or torture, but that didn’t mean he was confessing under duress. At this point, that was the only way he could see dismissing this case.

The Commander in the video leaned back. _“The Council intentionally started this?”_ he hissed in fury.

 _“It got out of control-“_ Wernher attempted to explain.

 _“And what was the goal?”_ The Commander spat furiously. _“What did you think would happen?”_

“ _Look, I don’t know what the original reason was but it had something to do with you.”_

 _Shut up._ He begged the recording. _Just shut up._

 _“Of course it did,”_ the Commander growled, his fists clenched. _“I just didn’t think they hated me so much they’d sacrifice a damn country!”_

 _“It wasn’t to sacrifice it,”_ Wernher tried to insist, his face pleading _. “Just to scare the German government. If people became terrified of the alien threat, then it would reflect badly on you and might convince Germany to pull out of the XCOM project.”_

 _“Further damaging my reputation,”_ the Commander spit out, shaking his head. _“Clever.”_

_“You’ve made some powerful enemies-“_

_“Shut. Up.”_ He growled. Wernher cowered in his seat.

 _“What’s your part in this?”_   The Commander demanded after a few seconds.

 _“I was to have my station bring attention to the alien threat_ ,” Wernher explained rapidly, his face terrified. _“Then the rallies and protests started and we thought we might as well capitalize so we started that. The censorship was planned and was supposed to be the breaking point for Germany. But they were more stubborn than we anticipated and it soon escalated beyond our control…”_

The Commander stopped the video. “I think that speaks for itself.”

Ali’s mind raced. “This proves nothing,” he stated, trying to keep his tone as controlled as the Commanders. “No one was named. And the statement was clearly given under duress. Your ‘evidence’ is worthless before the Council.”

The Commander smiled. “I certainly do not believe the entire Council was involved. But I _do_ believe that if this somehow was released, I would imagine certain Councilors would be furious at this splinter group and would do something to punish them,” he shook his head in mock disbelief. “I certainly have no idea what that is, but I imagine the factions within the Council are well defined, and everyone would know _exactly_ who is behind them.”

“You do not have as nearly as much support as you think!” Ali shot back.

“Neither do you,” he responded evenly. “Else I would have never been appointed in the first place.”

“Don’t mistake your appointment as support,” Eli warned, his fists clenched. “After what you did in Germany, I would expect nothing less than your execution.”

“’What I did in Germany?’” The Commander repeated wistfully, looking at the ceiling. “You mean when XCOM saved Hamburg? When _I_ decided to try and prevent Germany’s destabilization when no one else would?” He looked back at Ali, eyes cold and distant. “Don’t hold me in suspense, Ennor. Tell me what I’ve done.”

“Are you serious?” Ennor sputtered, eyes blazing. “Did you think we would not make the connection between you and the new military occupation of Germany?”

The Commander started laughing.

“Are you seriously suggesting that _I_ am the one responsible for Germany?” He demanded between chuckles. “Do you honestly believe that _I_ have that much power?”

“Take a look at what happened,” Ali shot back. “As soon as Germany withdrew from the Council, problems started arising. The blackouts, the protests, every cabinet member dying in an explosion. All of which paved the way for a smooth military occupation. And you know when we went to speak to the new Chancellor? He flatly refused our offer, saying he was going to work with XCOM directly. How convenient for you.”

“Considering how the Council was responsible for his country falling in the first place, I can’t really blame him.” The Commander answered.

“The Council was _not_ responsible-“

 _“_ Correction. _Part_ of the Council.”

Ali didn’t even know how to respond.

“I have to say,” the Commander shook his head. “That is some of the weakest circumstantial evidence I’ve heard in my life. I’m certainly flattered you consider me talented enough to pull something like this off, but _honestly_ take a good look at what I would have had to do.”

He raised a finger. “First, causing the city-wide blackouts. You _do_ realize that XCOM does not have an official Intelligence branch, right? Or was there one and I was never told?” He shrugged. “Not that it matters. But I suppose I could if I _really_ wanted to, though it would be extremely difficult.”

He raised another finger, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Two. The crowds. Believe me, I wish I could influence crowds, but I don’t. And also,” he broke off chuckling. “There were protests in _three_ major cities. We’re talking thousands of people. Do you honestly think I had the time or resources to do anything close to this?”

“People can be manipulated,” Ali pointed out. “These people were on the edge between fear and anger. The blackouts could have been the last straw. You don’t _need_ some kind of device to direct a population.”

“Congratulations!” the Commander exclaimed sarcastically. “You passed psychology as well! But fine, let’s say that was my express goal. Make people angry enough to come out and protest.” He paused. “No doubt you also think I somehow managed to make the aliens come down as well and attack.”

“No,” Ali shook his head. “I say the aliens simply took advantage thanks to you. Everything was handed to them on a platter thanks to your meddling. I would say that you baited them into coming.”

“At least you retain some sanity,” the Commander muttered. “Though I don’t know nearly enough about the aliens to even begin to try ‘baiting’ them. But as for your final point. Please explain how I managed to break into the Reichstag, with comparable security to the White House, which was no doubt on lockdown due to the nearby attacks. Locate the entire cabinet, kill them, _and_ have time to place a bomb with enough power to blow out part of the building.”

“I wouldn’t be the first time.” Ali stated coldly.

All humor vanished from the Commander’s face. His eyes turned cold and features hard as stone. “This may be difficult for you to comprehend,” he said softly as he walked slowly up to him. “But I am not the cause of every problem in the world. Every atrocity committed does not always trace back to me. You’ve built me in your mind as some kind of demon who had a hand in everything when that is simply not true.”

He stepped back and turned his back to him. “Allow me to propose an alternate theory,” he continued softly. “The aliens took advantage of the Chancellor incredibly naïve peace offer and saw a way to break the country once and for all. They sabotaged the power grids, adding to public unrest. Did you know these aliens also have mind manipulation powers?”

Ali shook his head.

“I thought not,” he said softly, dangerously. “You have no clue what I’ve seen or done. You don’t know what I and my soldiers have sacrificed so you don’t have to feel the brunt of an alien invasion. But I digress, these aliens might have used their abilities to compel the populace to come out. Who knows? But all it did was lead them into a massacre.”

He turned back to him and jabbed a finger at Ali. “They did the sensible thing and destroyed the leadership. But what they didn’t count on was the people striking back.” He paused and smiled. “What? Did you think the military was going to simply sit back and watch their country fall? _No_. They actually _did_ something about it which is more than I can say for the United Nations.”

There was silence after the Commander finished his speech.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He demanded quietly. “What have I done to you?”

Ali let out a sharp laugh. “You want a list? I can provide documentation of every war crime you committed. You are a sadistic, cruel, manipulative, egotistical, soulless monster of a human. The very idea that some thought that someone like you would be a good choice for leading the defense of humanity sickens me and demeans us all.”

The corners of the Commander’s lips turned up. “Well, you know what I think? I think the United Nations is a corrupt, inefficient, bloated, cowardly organization that should be burned to the ground and rebuilt. But the difference between us is that I don’t go out of my way to impede the United Nations at every turn. While _you_ literally believe in sacrificing countries to discredit me.”

“Repeating a lie doesn’t make it true.” Ali stated coldly, glaring at him.

“Then tell me exactly where I lied,” the Commander hissed. “I haven’t. But I certainly know the United Nations has. Were you there when I turned myself in after the war? I was promised that those under my command would receive fair treatment or be pardoned and released.”

“We kept our word.” Ennor stated firmly. “Each of your people received a fair trial.”

“Fair.” The Commander repeated turning away and walking over to a desk. “You certainly have an _interesting_ definition of the word. My people were certainly sent to trial, true.” His tone turned cold and bitter.

“The thing was, it wasn’t an American trial. Each of them were sent to courts in Iran, Saudi Arabia, Egypt.” He turned back, his eyes filled with unbridled anger. “They were convicted almost immediately and were subjected to torture, humiliation and execution. The United Nations lied, and were I not the Commander of XCOM, I would avenge every single one of their deaths.

He took several steps toward him. “I assure you, if anyone has a right to hold a grudge, it is me. And why did you say you hate me? Because I _won a war_? If I had killed someone you cared about I could see your point a little more clearly.”

“Must they be related for me to feel outrage over the deaths of the countless innocent people you murdered?” Ali demanded angrily. “Should I not feel anger when I saw children hung on crosses? You don’t care about human life, _Commander_. You only care about yourself and circle of friends.”

The Commander pursed his lips. “My point is this, Ennor. Despite what the United Nations has done, I was willing to work with them. I was willing to put the past behind me and focus on defending the future of our species.” He began pacing back and forth. “But I’ve had to constantly be vigilant for people seeking to remove me, for crimes I committed nearly a decade ago. I will tolerate your petty grudges no longer.”

He spun on his heel and clasped his hands behind his back. “This is your last chance. Promise you will work with me and I will leave you and never bother you again.”

Ali sniffed. “Are you threatening me?”

“I assure you, councilor,” the Commander told him in a soft, deadly voice. “That if I were threatening you, it would be very clear. I am making you an offer.”

“Then let me be perfectly clear,” Ali stated, his own voice filling with fury. “The concept of principles may be foreign to you, but to me they are essential. You are the embodiment of everything I’ve worked my life to stop. No, Commander, I will not work with you and will not stop until your crimes are exposed and you are executed like the criminal you are.”

The Commander inclined his head. “As you wish. I want names.”

Ali cocked his head. “Sorry.”

“Names. Of every councilor allied against me. Give them to me.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Have you ever heard of EXALT?”

The change of topic threw him off. Frowning, he answered. “EXALT is nothing but an urban legend. A myth that isn’t even based in reality.”

“You’re learning so much today,” the Commander mused, a smile on his face. “Well, I have proof EXALT exists and was involved in the destabilization of Germany as well. Curious thing, your name was dropped several times by EXALT operatives we captured. Those recordings, in combination with that video you saw, would effectively destroy your career.”

Ali gave a grin in return. “You overestimate the effect of such “evidence.” Do you think this is the first time I’ve been blackmailed? Try fourth. Any evidence you submit I can make disappear.”

His talents were slightly exaggerated, but he was fairly confident saying that the evidence wouldn’t affect him. It would certainly throw a wrench into things for a few months, but it was nowhere near career-ending.

The Commander shook his head sadly. “Then I suppose more drastic measures will have to be taken.”

“What are you going to do?” Ali demanded haughtily. “Torture me? You’d be signing your death warrant.”

The Commander fixed him with a cold, terrifying smile. “Tell me, Ennor. Given a choice, who would you choose: Your wife or daughter?”

Ali froze, his mind not fully processing what was said. “You wouldn’t dare.”

One look into the Commander merciless eyes was all the answer he needed. “Are you certain of that?” He asked softly.

“You can’t intimidate me.” Ali whispered. “Not even if you threaten my family.”

“Now, who said anything about that,” the Commander asked, as he began walking around. “It was just a simple question. One you didn’t answer. It certainly would be terrible if something were to happen to one of them…” he trailed off and walked over to a picture of a window.

“One story sticks in my mind,” he continued. “In order to ensure his cooperation, a group of KGB agents once captured the son of a terrorist organization leader. They naturally did not comply, so in response, they send little packages to the leader. Each one contained a body part of the son. Nothing large; an ear, finger, or eye. I believe the largest package received contained the forearm.”

Ali was petrified by fear as the monster before him continued. “In the end, the leader gave in and his son was received back safe and sound. I certainly don’t know if the story is true, but could you just imagine being responsible for a loved ones suffering?” he shook his head in mock sympathy. “I imagine the guilt would be overwhelming. And it would all be so easy to prevent.”

“You are evil.” Ali whispered. “You were wrong. You _are_ a demon.”

“I am a necessary evil,” the Commander clarified. “I do what is needed, but what men like you lack the stomach to do. I once saved this world from a greater evil. I will do it again, with or without the help of the Council.”

“So tell me, Councilor Ali Ennor,” he finished quietly. “The names of those allied against me.”

He had to. This man was just ruthless and evil enough to actually kill or torture someone he loved. He couldn’t risk it. He just couldn’t. He stormed over to his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and began scribbling names.

“Take it.” He spat, shoving it in his hands. The Commander smiled and inclined his head in thanks.

“Appreciated. That’s all I wanted.” He picked up his pack and began walking past him towards the door. “Wage your petty campaign against me if you wish,” he called over his shoulder. “But remember that your actions have consequences. And I shouldn’t have to remind you to keep this conversation between us.”

“Without a doubt.” Ali spat venomously.

“Then goodbye,” he nodded, with a little wave. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a war to win.”

And he left him there.

Helpless and hopeless as the monster left the house with a smile on his face.

***

_The Citadel, Barracks_

Luke fiddled with the laser pistol as he sat at the edge of his bunk. The few that were occupying this part of the barracks were sleeping. He just needed to occupy himself somehow and fiddling with a dangerous piece of equipment seemed to do the trick.

It was insane what was happening.

First the attack on Hamburg. Then the surrender, then the massacres at Berlin, Munich and Cologne. The murder of the government and now the military taking over. This horrendous sequence of events shouldn’t even be possible. Each thing that happened worse than the last. He prayed that something worse wasn’t coming.

Though honestly, what could possibly be worse? The aliens just deciding to annex the country altogether? He snorted in disbelief. He’d have thought it impossible, but that word was having less and less meaning as this war went on.

He’d met the Defense Minister once. At some public event, he didn’t remember which and the man had…well, nothing had really struck him about the man. Not enough to know what kind of leader he was going to be. Luke was torn. On one hand, he didn’t want to see another dictator rise in his county, there were enough of those in it’s history. But on the other hand, it wasn’t as though anyone else was going to help. The world seemed content to just watch it burn.

 _United Nations_. He scowled. Yeah, sure, united until they deemed it not worth saving. For a group that was supposedly interesting in uniting the world, they didn’t seem particularly keen on helping one of it’s members. Any why should they? It wasn’t as if anyone _important_ was threatened.

He had no doubt that if something had happened to America, England or any other major nation, the UN would be tripping all over themselves trying to help. But no. Germany was expendable and he wasn’t even surprised. He was beginning to understand why the Commander despised the UN.

“Are you trying to take it apart?” He looked up to see Mira standing opposite him, her arms crossed and hood shadowing her face.

He sighed. “No. I’m just…thinking.”

She nodded. “I imagine so.”

He scooted over on his bunk. “You don’t have to stand.”

She walked over and sat beside him. “I appreciate it,” she told him. “How are you doing?”

He tossed the pistol onto the empty bunk opposite him. “I’m conflicted and angry. Conflicted over the new de-facto Chancellor and angry that no one seemed to care enough to stop this in the first place.”

 Mira was quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t think the military had a choice,” she told him. “How else should they have responded to keep the country from falling apart?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe it’s because I’m worried about what he’s going to do with his power. I don’t want to see a dictator rise and take advantage.”

“I don’t think that will happen,” Mira reassured him. “Someone will stop him before that happens.”

“Who?” Luke asked wearily. “No one cared before. No one will care now.”

At least she didn’t say the United Nations, but then again, Israel had never had the best relationship with the organization. “We will,” she told him. “XCOM. The Commander won’t allow a dictator to keep control, especially if he decides to work with us.”

Luke sighed. “We ultimately are a United Nations force. And I doubt they want us getting involved.”

“If the Commander has proven one thing,” Mira said. “It’s that he won’t even take them into consideration if that were to happen.”

He shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she told him softly. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

He gave a sad smile. “Well, thanks.”

“I meant what I said earlier,” she told him, taking his hand in her gloved one. “If this new Chancellor proves to be nothing but a dictator, I will execute him myself.”

He had to chuckle at that. “You certainly don’t make easy promises.”

“No,” she agreed. “But I do make ones worth keeping.”

“Thank you,” he told her, not knowing or caring if he’d said it before. “It means a lot to me.”

Mira looked ahead. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Done what?” He asked.

“Make promises to someone. Much less ones that I would do anything to fulfill.”

“Does it bother you?”

She shrugged. “Yes. But in this case I’m willing to ignore that.”

With that they sat in silence for a while. Enjoying what little calm they had left before being thrown back into war.

***

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

That had gone well. He highly doubted that Ennor would try anything after his not-so-subtle threat, especially since he believed that he could and would actually follow through. Sometimes his reputation worked in his favor, even if it wasn’t the path he wanted.

Hopefully that would keep the Council off him for a while. Thanks to the list of names, he now had the means to make sure the Council fell into line if they continued on this futile path. He had no illusions that they would stop. Instead, they would just be far more careful and cunning. But he’d bought some time and now he could focus on the aliens until the war stabilized before returning to the Council.

Then there was EXALT. The organization everyone said was a myth. He’d have to be vigilant for them. They seemed to have vanished since Germany, though it wasn’t as though he’d made a concerted effort to find them. But if this organization actually _had_ enough influence to alter world events, he had no doubt they’d show up again.

His intercom buzzed. “Yes?”

 _“Commander,”_ Bradford answered. _“The Council wishes to speak to you.”_

He frowned. Ennor wouldn’t have been stupid enough to go the Council without proof, right? Because if so, this could be a major issue. Or perhaps the Council simply wanted to talk after what had happened. He relaxed a bit. That was probably the more likely answer.

“Understood, Bradford,” he answered. “Put them through.”

He got up from his chair and turned to face the screen on the wall. It flashed and the familiar silhouetted figure appeared on the screen. The bald Speaker. Good, they might actually have a productive conversation.

 _“Commander,”_ he greeted. _“We have much to discuss.”_

He inclined his head in greeting. “That we do, Speaker. I assume the Council has been following the situation in Germany.”

 _“Indeed,”_ he nodded. _“While the actions of the German military are…worrying…we do acknowledge that the country is not under the threat of alien influence. The Council understands that the former Defense Minister has made contact with XCOM directly.”_

“That is true,” the Commander acknowledged. “He has offered funding and resources towards my fight against the aliens.”

_“While the Council is certainly…pleased…that Germany will continue to support XCOM, some in the Council find the fact that two nations outside the oversight of the Council now work with you…worrying.”_

“With all due respect, Speaker,” the Commander interrupted. “Have they considered that they might find me more reliable than the United Nations? The United Nations did nothing to prevent the fall of Germany, and I don’t need to repeat the…heated…history between them and Israel.”

 _“We acknowledge that some aspects of the German situation were…mishandled,”_ the Speaker told him, inclining his head. _“However, some within the Council do not believe you are authorized to make direct negotiations with outside countries.”_

He raised an eyebrow. “Is this an official order to refuse aid from willing countries?”

 _“No.”_ The Speaker clarified. _“The Council is well aware that you would simply ignore any directive placed on you. But let me be clear; do not overstep your authority.”_

What did that even mean? Well, it was easy enough to promise. “Certainly, Speaker. I would _never_ go outside my clear and well defined boundaries.”

The Speaker ignored his sarcastic comment. _“Commander, the Council feels that relations between us have become…strained.”_

He sighed. “That tends to happen when a not-insignificant portion of your Council makes it their goal to work against me.”

 _“Regardless of the actions of certain Councilors,”_ the Speaker continued. _“We can both agree that this continued tension benefits none of us.”_

“I agree,” the Commander insisted. “I have been perfectly willing to work with you and I have. But even you must admit it’s difficult when you speak to certain representatives who clearly loathe you for simply existing.”

 _“The Council agrees,”_ the Speaker said, folding his hands. _“We no longer believe Speaker Irene Adilah_ _represents the interests of the Council and has been relieved of her position. Moving forward, I will assume her duties until such time as a new Speaker is chosen to replace her.”_

Was that right? Huh. They were actually doing something reasonable. Though he had the suspicion that she was being replaced less for her words and more due to the fact that he now knew her name. The Council liked being anonymous, and she no longer was. A good move, regardless of the reasons.

“That is good to hear,” the Commander answered. “This will certainly make things easier moving forward.”

And now for the ultimate appeasement. He began walking back and forth. “I realize that the scope of this invasion is incredibly broad. As such, I feel that a more concerted effort to understand the alien materials will be necessary to ensure worldwide security. Thus, I have decided to allot a small amount of the alien materials recovered to the Council to use as they see fit.”

The Speaker actually seemed surprised, as he slightly leaned back. _“The Council is…pleased…with you decision. We assure you that we will devote our best people to utilizing the alien materials.”_

“Excellent.” he answered. Good. The Council would be distracted trying to solve the altered materials and he’d gained time to focus on the aliens.

 _“The Council rests assured that you will continue to work so that an event like Germany is not repeated,”_ the Speaker said. _“Remember, we will be watching.”_

And he ended the call. Hm. That had been fairly abrupt. Not that he was complaining, that had gone far better than he’d expected. He went back to his chair and sat down, then began compiling exactly how much he was going to allot to the UN. After Vahlen made the necessary alterations of course.

He breathed in and out. With the Council out of the way for the time being, it was time to focus fully on the alien threat. 

 


	27. Objective: Capture Outsider

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

Several events happened in quick succession following the Council meeting. The first being the arrival of ten new soldiers from across the globe. From looking over their profiles, the Commander believed that they should more than make up for the losses. Two were German KSK operatives, one was a Chinese Jinan soldier, two were Australian SOER operatives and one was a United States Navy Seal. The rest were “regular” soldiers from Britain, Hungary and Canada, and even the non-special forces soldiers had some attritional characteristic that would benefit XCOM. One was a chemist, another a part time engineer. Overall, a fine batch of soldiers. One of Van Doorn’s soldiers had also joined as well. Private “Friendly” if he recalled.

The second major event was Germany officially finalized their alliance with XCOM, although unlike Israel, they did not need to provide Germany with additional equipment. But tensions were beginning to lower in Germany and they were receiving a significant increase in funding thanks to them.

The Council seemed to be keeping their distance, understandable and a relief to him. He hadn’t noticed any change in funding from them, thankfully. It finally seemed he might not have to worry about them, at least for a while. He’d tasked Vahlen with altering some of the alloys and weapon fragments and she’d happily rendered them effectively useless and he’d sent them the materials.

In the unlikely event that they acquired some unmodified artifacts, he could simply say that theirs were either damaged, or simply that it was just a characteristic of alien technology. Either way, it would hinder them from developing technology of their own.

And now Vahlen wanted everyone assembled as she apparently some important information to share. He hadn’t wasted time and informed everyone else to meet him here. They were about to arrive in about five minutes. One thing that he appreciated greatly within the military was how punctual everyone was. It was nice to actually set times and have people show up on time.

The door hissed open and Vahlen strode through, tablet in hand. Her expression was…satisfied, her lips forming in not quite a smile, but in a way that he could see she was pleased about something.

“Moira,” he greeted, more comfortable using her first name when no one was present. Appearances had to be kept up.

“Commander,” she replied cheerfully, walking beside him and handing her tablet to him.

He stood, took it, and looked at the images on screen. “The results of the interrogation?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, leaning on the table. “Most are useless, but there are several clues that we could use.”

He handed it back with a nod of approval. “Excellent. I’ll wait for the others to show before we begin,” he paused. “How are the autopsies going?”

“Very well,” she answered, taking it. “We need to perform some more tests, but I think we’re close to learning how these creatures work.”

“How soon?” he asked, mentally creating a timeline in his head.

“Two, three days for both of them,” she answered, nodding in emphasis. “In the meantime, I’ve been working on a project of my own.” She focused on the tablet and swiped the screen a couple of times and handed it back to him. The image on it was a list of formulas, DNA sequence charts and more scientific lingo than he couldn’t begin to translate. He looked up at Vahlen.

“What is this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Her lips curled into a toothless smile. “A bioweapon. A virus, to be specific, targeting the sectoid race.”

He cocked his head in interest. “Really? Is it complete?”

“No,” she quickly clarified, shaking her head. “I’ve only managed to lock down what the initial virus should entail. It’s not even close to being ready yet.”

“I thought you said gene-targeted weapons were dangerous,” he said, looking at the confusing image, trying to make more sense of it. “Do something wrong and you either have a useless gas or a devastating epidemic.”

“With humans, yes,” Vahlen agreed. “We’re too genetically diverse to make an effective weapon like this.” She paused and her sharp eyes lit up. “ _However,_ every single sectoid we’ve recovered has the _exact_ same genetic structure. _Exactly_. I don’t know why, but if the aliens want to mass produce their sectoids, we can make them pay dearly for it.”

He was impressed. That was something he had considered bringing up with Vahlen at some point, but wanted to hold off until things stabilized. But she’d taken the initiative, something he found admirable. Not that he was overly surprised, she had a similar thought process to him.

He smiled in approval. “Excellent. What do you need to move this to the next stage?”

“Sectoids,” she answered immediately, tapping her fingers on the table as she thought. “Preferably five live ones. Then at least one human, to ensure there won’t be any harmful side effects.”

He pondered that. They couldn’t risk their own soldiers, even if they were volunteers. Hmm. He’d have to find a solution to that, but the sectoids were easy enough. He nodded at her. “I’ll instruct the soldiers to capture as many as possible. Do you have a safe way to contain them?”

“They’ll be sedated,” she assured him. “Like what we did with the sectoid before alien containment was built.”

“As long as you’re sure,” he allowed. “As for the human test subject, I’ll have to look into it. I won’t risk our soldiers.”

She nodded. “Certainly, I wouldn’t think about asking our soldiers to do this.” she paused. “I’m currently thinking there would have to be a gestation period of three weeks if we want it to be effective. Possibly longer.”

He nodded as he thought. “It would have to be airborne, and preferably transmittable by every way possible.”

“I’ll ensure it,” she agreed with a firm nod. “Should I make this a priority?”

He rested his chin on his fist. “Not until we have the necessary subjects. Continue as you’ve been.”

She inclined her head. “Yes, Commander.”

They turned as the door hissed open and Zhang and Van Doorn walked in. “Commander,” Van Doorn greeted and Zhang inclined his head. Bradford and Shen walked in a few minutes later. The Commander stepped aside to let Vahlen take the center.

“Go ahead,” he told her. She nodded and moved in to plug in the tablet to the screen. And an unrecognizable blur of shades of black appeared, there were vague shapes and outlines, but nothing concrete.

“The interrogation of the sectoid provided some valuable information,” Vahlen began, tapping the screen. “Although the majority of the images extracted were little more than this, there were two images in particular that appeared repeatedly appeared.”

“How did you get these?” Van Doorn asked, eyes widening.

“After verbal communication failed, I extracted these images from it’s mind.” Vahlen answered, shrugging. “The method is fatal, but in this case it was worth it.”

“How is that possible?” Van Doorn asked, looking nonplussed. The Commander assumed he was entitled to it. It wasn’t exactly something he heard every day.

“Trust me, General,” Shen sighed. “You probably don’t want to know.”

“In any event,” Vahlen continued. “ _This_ is the first major lead.” The screen shifted to a similar looking blurriness, though one of the blurred figures was outlined in orange and slightly glowed that color.

“What is that?” Bradford asked as his eyes scanned the image. “Is it supposed to be an outsider?”

Vahlen shook her head. “I thought so at first, but it’s not, and you’ll see why later. No,” she tapped on her tablet. “Take a look at the shadows when the figures are made clearer.” The image changed, and was clearly sharper, thought clearly doctored.

“What do they look like now?” She asked.

“Sectoids,” Shen stated slowly.

“And the orange figure?” Vahlen pressed.

“Also one,” the Commander said slowly. “But clearly different in some ways if it stood out this much.”

“A leader?” Zhang questioned.

“Possibly,” Vahlen admitted, pursing her lips. “I don’t have enough data to show either way. But it suggests that there is a more powerful sectoid, or simply one in the upper ranks of the hierarchy.”

“Have we considered that the sectoids could be the master species?” Van Doorn asked, looking around at them. “I’ve reviewed the footage. These sectoids seem to be in command whenever we’ve encountered them.”

“It’s possible,” Vahlen admitted, scrolling through something on her tablet. “Unfortunately, we still don’t have enough data to establish a hierarchy within the aliens.”

“They seem pretty frail for a master alien species,” Bradford pointed out, frowning. “Even if they managed to subdue one species, that doesn’t account for the others. I just don’t see how they could keep every single one in line.”

“Following this theory,” Shen commented, looking thoughtful. “If would be natural to assume that they would have control over the mechanical units like the drones and those mechanical disks. We’ve seen how powerful they can be. Combined with their psionic powers, they could theoretically keep multiple species in line.”

The Commander nodded in agreement. “Frailty does not equal weakness. With the correct application, I see no reason why their psionics and machines could not be used to retain control over multiple species.”

“Not to mention their mastery of genetic engineering,” Vahlen added. “Though weak in appearance, the autopsies have found each specimen in excellent physical condition for it’s species.”

“Except we don’t have a baseline to compare to.” Shen reminded her. “We only have the bodies recovered from the battlefield.”

“I highly doubt the aliens would send any other than their best,” Zhang commented. “Regardless, I am skeptical that these creatures are the masterminds of this invasion.”

“Why do you say that?” The Commander asked, crossing his arms.

“For the simple reason that they have been seen so much in this invasion,” Zhang answered, skepticism clear in his voice. “This master alien species no doubt has hundreds, if not thousands of soldiers as we’ve seen from these new aliens. And regardless of their psionic abilities, they are objectively inferior soldiers. Why would the aliens involve themselves when there are clear alternatives?”

“This invasion was likely years in the planning,” the Commander commented. “They might wish to personally make sure it succeeds. Why wouldn’t they?”

Zhang pursed his lips. “For the same reason kings sent knights to fight their battles, the same reason the heads of the Triad sent thugs and goons to do their bidding and keep their hands clear. For the same reason politicians send soldiers to die in wars.” His eyebrows furrowed. “Those in power never send their own. Not if they can find someone else to take their place.”

Zhang raised a good point. However, if the sectoids were being cloned, perhaps they simply didn’t care. Shen seemed to come to a similar conclusion. “The problem with that theory is that we’re thinking like humans,” he tapped his head. “These aliens might not view life, power or consequence the same way we do. To us, no, it doesn’t make sense to risk yourself or brethren when there are alternatives. But the aliens might not think like that.”

This was a fascination conversation, and one that needed to be had, but the Commander hadn’t forgotten Vahlen hadn’t finished. He looked at her. “You had something else?”

She nodded. “Yes. Look,” a new image appeared and though the outline was blurred, it was unmistakably an outsider. “This image appeared repeatedly.” Vahlen continued. “The outsiders may be more important than we initially assumed.”

The Commander pursed his lips as he thought. “The outsiders appear to act as something of a security system. Perhaps they are also a key to breaking it?”

“But how?” Shen mused, tapping his chin.

“I don’t know,” Vahlen admitted, frowning. “But I know there is only one way to find out.”

“We need to capture one.” Zhang stated. “Alive.”

“Is that even possible?” Van Doorn questioned Vahlen, looking at her. “They seem immune to physical attacks and self-regenerate at an unbelievable rate. Even laser weapons are just absorbed unless there is a concentrated attack.”

“The ARC Thrower.” Shen told him. “We finished a prototype a week or so ago and haven’t deployed it yet. But it’s possible that the electrical charge could stun it.”

“ _Possible_ ,” Bradford eyed him skeptically. “And just how “possible” is this really?”

Shen shook his head. “We have no data. We can only make estimates.”

“However,” Vahlen interjected. “We have noted a positive correlation between target vitals and stun probability.”

“So an injured target is more likely to fall,” Zhang finished, crossing his arms. “Won’t the charge kill the subject?”

“Until we have live subjects to test, that will be a risk,” Vahlen acknowledged. “That is a reason captives are so important. We need to fine tune our equipment to better exploit the aliens weaknesses.”

“Then that is our objective.” The Commander stated, resting his hands on the holotable. “We will capture an outsider and as many aliens as we can.” He glanced over at Shen. “I want three ARC throwers made. That should be sufficient.”

Shen nodded. “Yes, Commander. We’ll continue to improve on the design once we have some actual field data.”

Van Doorn’s forehead furrowed in concern. “Are you certain we can safely store any aliens we capture?” He asked Vahlen.

She nodded. “Yes. And if they pose any risk at all, they will be terminated.”

He blinked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” she repeated firmly. “I will not risk people dying for the sake of some live specimens. I have no doubt that more will be captured in the future.”

The Commander nodded at them. “I’ll be sure to notify the soldiers of the new objectives. I suspect they’ll be happy to carry them out.” He inclined his head at Vahlen. “Thank you, doctor. That’s all, dismissed.”

They each saluted him and walked out the door. He still stood once they left, looking at the images, pondering why the creature had considered them so important.

***

_The Citadel, Engineering Bay_

Patricia held up the unwieldy weapon like a pistol and aimed it at the dummy. Shutting her left eye, she fired and the tool spat out a burst of electricity and the smell of ozone filled the air. Her arm was also thrown back from the unexpected recoil and she stumbled back.

“I’d recommend you use two hands,” Shen suggested, approaching her as she lowered it. “We haven’t quite figured out how to make the static discharge less…violent.”

“It certainly packs quite a punch,” she admitted, looking over the ARC thrower, as Shen called it. The weapon barrel was almost triangular, until it was cut off to reveal a slowly spinning cylinder inside, with a faint blue light in the center. On the end was a basic screen displaying the power and charge with several gears to adjust the lethality of the blast. The bottom of the holster widened to contain a battery pack, like the ones she’d seen on some of the more powerful power tools.

“You sure this won’t kill them?” She asked as she adjusted the power settings.

“No,” Shen admitted, frowning in contemplation. “At this moment, the only species that we have a reasonable idea of it effects is the sectoid since we had a live captive. At the moment, the maximum power is just slightly less than lethal for humans.”

“So what you’re saying is that it either might kill the target or it won’t work at all?” She clarified, putting the ARC thrower down.

“Yes…” Shen answered tentatively.

She pursed her lips. “Wonderful. Anything else I should know?”

“The ARC thrower has only one charge per pack,” Shen explained as he pulled out another power pack. “It’s something we’re going to fix in future iterations.”

“Good to know,” she answered, taking the pack and placing it in the weapon. “I assume you’re not just showing off this stuff for fun?”

He nodded gravely. “The Commander and Dr. Vahlen want live aliens,” he explained. “As many as can be safely captured. Specifically outsiders and sectoids.”

She cocked her head in interest. “The sectoid won’t be difficult, but outsiders? I’m not sure this would even phase it.”

“That is a risk,” Shen admitted. “But the Commander is confident that it can be done.”

“Humph, we’ll see,” she shrugged and placed the weapon on the table. “If these captures are going to become a priority, I think we should start using the symbiote weapons you’ve developed.”

“I agree,” Shen nodded, walking over to another table with weapons and grenades on it. “I’ll ensure that some of those get delivered to the armory and barracks along with the ARC throwers.”

“Excellent.” She glanced around the Engineering Bay. “Was there anything else?”

Shen shook his head. “No, Mrs. Trask. That’s all.”

She inclined her head. “Thank you,” she told him sincerely. “I appreciate it.”

“My pleasure.”

She turned and walked out of the room, thinking about the implications of this development. Live captures, specifically of outsiders and sectoids. Since they’d already captured a sectoid, the only reason more would be requested was if they were needed for something or Vahlen hadn’t learned everything she wanted to.

 From her limited interaction with XCOM’s Head Scientist, she wouldn’t be surprised by either. Vahlen struck her as the type to thoroughly dissect and disassemble something and extract every secret it held, then do it again to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. She also didn’t seem to make trivial or inconsequential requests. Which followed that she had a specific plan for the sectoids.

The easiest answer was a weapon of some kind, probably a virus or biological weapon specifically targeted to them. And while she didn’t doubt Vahlen’s ambition, she _did_ know that creating weapons specifically for one species could backfire. Unless she could create something that targeted the genetics of the sectoid, anything made would either be useless or catastrophic.

She couldn’t see the Commander authorizing something like that unless Vahlen was sure she could do it. And while she was sure _Vahlen_ thought she could, _she_ wasn’t as sure. The woman was brilliant, but no one was perfect.

It would be interesting to see what came out of it regardless. The outsider though, that was going to be tricky, although having a captured one might actually shed some light on how they actually functioned. They clearly weren’t organic, but she wasn’t convinced they were fully mechanical either. A question that would hopefully be solved once one was captured.

She turned a hallway and paused as Luke and Mira walked out of the Barracks, Luke in casual XCOM wear and Mira in her military fatigues and hood. They were apparently chatting about something intensely. Luke was fairly animated while Mira was unemotional as ever. Or so she appeared.

Patricia frowned as she leaned against the wall, crossing her arms as she watched them stand outside the door. Something was off with them. They seemed oddly comfortable and familiar with each other, not unlike an intimate couple. Which made no sense in the context of Mira. And this wasn’t the only time she’d seen them like this, not to mention other soldiers who’d noted the same thing.

At this point, based on what she knew about both of them, the strongest explanation was that Mira was using him. For what, she didn’t know, but given her personality and actions, it made sense. And if so, that was a problem on several levels.

Luke apparently said goodbye, or something to that effect and walked off down the hallway, with Mira watching him leave. Perhaps she could get some answers from her before she left. Pushing off the wall, she began walking towards the small woman.

“Interesting chat?” She asked while walking up.

Mira didn’t seem the least bit surprised, though she turned to face her at her approach. The hood still shadowed her face, but since Patricia towered over her, when Mira looked up at her, enough light illuminated her shadowed hood for her to see the raw tint of her stripped face. As horrific as it was, she had to admire the woman for living with something like that. No wonder nothing phased her.

“Specialist Trask,” she noted blandly. “I see you’ve recovered.”

Patricia gave a brief smile. “How kind of you to notice,” she responded, with the faintest hint of sarcasm. “I wasn’t sure that was a concern for you.”

“It wasn’t,” Mira stated neutrally. “I knew you would recover. Dwelling on it served no one.”

Knowing Mira, that was _probably_ intended as a compliment. Though delivered in the most dismissive way possible. “You certainly have a knack for insulting compliments.” She said, shaking her head.

“It was neither,” Mira clarified, crossing her arms. “You asked a question. I answered.”

She sighed. No reason to beat around the bush. “Fine then. What’s your angle?”

She could vaguely see Mira frown. “I’m sorry?” She asked, actually sounding confused.

She waved a hand in the direction of the hallways. “You and Luke. What is your aim?”

Mira crossed her arms and her body tensed defensively. “There is no ‘aim,’ nor would it be any of your concern if there was.”

Patricia raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Come now, you’re not an idiot. Both of us know that isn’t true.”

“Then enlighten me,” Mira stated mockingly. “Please explain why _I_ would need an ‘aim?’ Perhaps I can ask about your ‘aim’ with Liam or Abby.”

Patricia smiled. “You see, the problem with that comparison is that while I don’t always get along with people, I don’t actively avoid or despise them. Whereas you have made it _very_ clear multiple times that you view people as expendable, friendships as weaknesses, and all forms of attachment are to be avoided.”

Patricia raised a finger. “Furthermore, you are a spy. You were part of an assassination branch and a terrorist hunter.”

“The Kidon did far more than simple assassinations,” Mira corrected calmly.

“That’s not a point in your favor,” Patricia shook her head. “You manipulated, lied and killed for a living.”

“Not unlike you,” Mira pointed out neutrally. “We’re soldiers. We all kill for a living.”

 Patricia raised an eyebrow. “That’s not even close to the same and you know it. That isn’t everything either. You still keep tabs on all of us, for what reason I don’t know. You ask for our profiles, watch all our missions that you didn’t participate in.”

She took a step forward. “Simply put, Mira, you don’t do anything without a reason. So don’t tell me whatever’s going on with Luke is just about friendship or something else, because that is not true.”

“I believe in knowing who I work with,” Mira answered, not phased in the least. “People distort the truth about their skills and those around them. Records and actions provide a more accurate picture.” She paused. “As for Luke, again, it is not your concern.”

Patricia’s face hardened. “Actually, it might be since I don’t think he fully realizes who you are. For whatever reason, you’ve….opened up…or shared something with him that no one here knows. You’re taking advantage, making him feel special in order to get close. And the only reason I can think you’d do that is that you want something from him.”

“I have done nothing of the sort,” Mira defended, some emotion creeping in her voice, turning it to steel. Her posture had turned firm and her motions became very deliberate as she slowly cocked her head up at Patricia. “Be very careful before throwing out false accusations, Patricia. He has been the one who’s insisted on talking to me.”

Patricia snorted. “You? I highly doubt that.”

She could see Mira purse her lips, and had the woman actually had emotions, she would have thought she was hurt. “Believe what you will. I doesn’t matter to me.”

“Fine then,” Patricia waved a hand. “Then what is it then? You want to sleep with him?”

Mira actually let out a chuckle devoid of any emotion. “You know nothing about him if you think that would actually work.”

Hmm. She hadn’t denied it. “And just why not?” She asked.

“I am not going to tell you,” Mira stated firmly. “You can ask him yourself.”

This was not getting anywhere. Mira was one of the few who would debate her to a standstill with no clear winner. “Fine.” Patricia stated. “Then perhaps Luke will shed some more light on this since you clearly don’t want to.”

She expected _some_ sort of retort. This was when people generally got defensive and well, emotional. Mira simply shrugged. “Do as you wish. He won’t tell you anything different.”

Hm. Not the answer she was expecting. Although it was Mira, an emotional reaction probably didn’t even occur to her.

Mira apparently had enough and began walking away, then paused and turned back. “Tell me, Patricia, was there a point to this…conversation.”

Patricia walked forward slowly, emphasizing each word so she got the message. “I don’t like seeing people be manipulated. If by some miracle you _don’t_ have some ulterior motive, then fine. If not…” she paused, mostly for effect. “Then there will be issues.”

“Then I suppose I have nothing to worry about then.” Mira stated as she walked off, leaving Patricia behind.

Well then.

Not that she had actually expected Mira to actually confirm anything one way or another, it was unexpected how…unconcerned she was about what she said. An odd reaction. She frowned. She would need to speak to Luke and then put the pieces together. Something to do later.

***

_The Citadel, Mission Control_

“Status?” The Commander demanded as he strode in, moving past rushing analysts and technicians.

Bradford turned to him, one hand on his headset. “One second,” he pointed at one of the analysts. “Onscreen, Now!”

“Yes, sir!” She called out. Bradford then addressed him.

“Commander,” he greeted properly, as they walked in front of the hologlobe. “We’ve detected a UFO flying over Mexico, I’ve dispatched two of our Ravens to take care of it.”

“Size?” the Commander demanded.

“A small one,” Bradford confirmed, tapping on his tablet and an image of the UFO appeared. “One of the scouts.”

The Commander nodded. “They should be able to down it fairly easily then.”

Bradford nodded. “I hope so.”

 _“This is Raven Five,”_ one of the pilots informed, voice coming over the speakers. _“Approaching the UFO now!”_

 _“Raven One here,”_ another voice joined in. _“Right behind you.”_

_“Copy that.”_

“This is Central to Raven’s One and Five,” Bradford ordered. “You may fire at will.”

 _“UFO sighted!”_ Raven Five shouted. _“Beginning strafing run.”_

The 3D screen displaying the UFO showed several missiles from the Raven hit the UFO which shuddered and spun around to fire in return.

 _“Taking evasive action!”_ Raven One yelled as the UFO began pursuing the Raven, firing plasma blasts.

 _“Targeting engines.”_ Raven Five yelled, than began another run, firing a barrage at the back of the UFO. In response the UFO twisted up and the missiles missed completely. The UFO performed a loop and ended up right behind Raven Five and began firing.

 _“It’s on me!”_ he shouted.

 _“Coming to assist.”_ Raven One informed and the Commander watched with satisfaction as a barrage of missiles slammed into the UFO which shuddered and began losing altitude. Like birds of prey, both pilots circles the ship as it gradually fell from the sky.

The UFO finally dropped off the screen. _“Central, this is Raven Five. The UFO is down. Returning to the Citadel now.”_

“Copy that, Raven Five,” Central answered, satisfaction clear in his voice. “Excellent work.”

“I’ll assemble a team.” The Commander told Bradford, turning to him. “This is an excellent chance to capture an outsider.”

“Agreed,” Bradford nodded. “The UFO shouldn’t have too many reinforcements.”

“We’re not underestimating them,” the Commander warned firmly. “I’m preparing for the worst case. I don’t want a repeat of Haiti.”

“Understood,” Bradford nodded. “I’ll be ready to assist as always.”

“Then let’s get started.”

***

_The Citadel, Armory_

“Two should be sufficient.” Patricia said as she grasped her own ARC thrower. The women beside her, Sarah Liber, took one as well.

“The tech here is amazing,” she muttered, looking over the chrome weapon in amazement.

“Where did you come from?” Patricia asked as she grasped her helmet.

“Canadian Rangers,” she answered, grabbing two of the symbiote grenades. “We were lucky to get the basic stuff. Though I had it better than most.” She brushed her cropped black hair back.

“Why is that?” Patricia asked as she sealed her helmet and grabbed her autolaser.

Sarah shrugged and grabbed her own helmet. “I’m not a soldier first, I was a chemist and joined the Canadian military. I get moved around a lot. The Ranger just happen to be the unit I’ve been in currently.”

“You should talk with Vahlen,” Patricia suggested as they began walking to the hanger. “I’m sure you two could talk about chemical stuff for hours.”

Sarah chuckled. “Perhaps,” she placed her helmet on and gasped as she saw the HUD for the first time. “Uh, wow.” She took several steps forward. “This is, uh, kind of distracting.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Patricia promised. “Come on.”

They walked at a brisk pace towards the hanger. “So what are they like?” Sarah asked. While her tone was light, Patricia knew exactly why she was asking. She was nervous.

As she should.

“That depends on which we encounter,” she answered slowly. “I assume you’ve read up on which species we’ve encountered.”

“Yes,” Sarah nodded quickly. “But you’ve fought them.”

A good point. “Keep the pressure on sectoids,” Patricia advised. “They look frail, but they can screw with your mind. We’ve lost several soldiers to mind manipulation. But they’re pretty easy to kill otherwise.”

“Can they…control you?” She asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” Patricia answered as they rounded a corner. “Not to date.”

“That’s a relief,” Sarah sighed.

“On a UFO as small as this, we’re probably going to encounter outsiders,” she warned. “They can only be killed by a coordinated attack. I’ll explain on the skyranger.”

“All right.”

They arrived at the hanger door which slid open to reveal the four other soldier waiting. Abby was talking with two soldiers she didn’t recognize, probably some of the new soldiers. Carmelita stood to the side, silently watching them, flipping one of her blades in her right hand. With a brief flash of guilt, she realized that she’d hadn’t even thought about how Carmelita was faring.

It wasn’t much of a secret that she and Shawn had been together, even if it wasn’t for very long. She’d apparently kept a low profile ever since his death, and didn’t have many friends to support her. Hopefully she was doing fine.

Judging from her stance, action and demeanor, she seemed ready to take her grief out on the aliens. She’d have to watch her. Heroics or vengeful attack were no help to anyone. However, she sheathed the blade and stood at attention when Patricia walked in.

Patricia motioned Sarah to walk forward and paused in front of her. “Carmelita, apologies for not speaking to you earlier. I’m sorry about what happened.”

“You were injured,” she shrugged. “And I’m not looking for sympathy.”

“I trust you’ll not do anything stupid?” She asked, getting to the heart of it.

“Nothing that will endanger the squad.” She answered calmly, looking her in the eye.

Patricia didn’t fail to notice she didn’t deny it. “That didn’t answer my question.”

Her tone became tinged with venom. “Because I’m not making promises. But leave one alive.”

Patricia pursed her lips under her helmet. She was fairly certain she knew what she wanted and wasn’t sure if she should shoot her down or not. If it was a human enemy, this wouldn’t even be a consideration.

But these were aliens. The same mercies didn’t apply to them. Not to mention she wasn’t feeling particularly friendly to them at the moment. She gave a brief nod. “Only if it’s safe.”

“My safety is of no concern,” Carmelita stated coldly. “They can’t hurt me anymore.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Patricia told her. “Come on.” They walked over to the rest of the squad who saluted her. She looked at the two new soldiers her HUD showed their names as Tayla and Eden Rayna. Sisters?

She inclined her head. “Eden, Tayla. I’m Squad Overseer Patricia Trask. A pleasure.”

She extended her hand which they took eagerly. “This is amazing!” Tayla exclaimed excitedly, with a tone she hadn’t heard in a long time here. Enthusiasm. “The technology here is incredible!”

“We’ve never seen anything close to it,” Eden added, with the same enthusiasm. “Believe me, we’ve seen a lot.”

She appraised them. “What were you before?”

“Australian Special Operations Engineer,” Tayla gestured at Eden. “Both of us.”

Ah, that’s why their accents sounded familiar. She kicked herself for not noting it earlier. “You’re sisters, correct?” Patricia asked.

Eden nodded and slung her arm around Tayla. “Yep. Enlisted together.”  

“We definitely wouldn’t have made if far without each other.” Tayla added.

How sweet. And irrelevant. “Good for you. Let’s hope you can apply this same enthusiasm to killing aliens.”

She heard the door his and saw their pilot walk in. Riley Ignis strode in, aviation helm tucked under her arm as usual. She stopped in front of Patricia and saluted her. She’d noted with interest that most of XCOM had adopted the Commander’s salute and dropped their countries respective ones. Not that she minded, it gave a sense of unity. But it was still different to actually receive it.

She returned it, placing a fist over her chest. “Pilot Ignis, we’re ready when you are.”

Riley nodded and placed her helm over her head. “Then let’s go. The Commander wants this done now.”

Patricia motioned her squad after her. “Come on! Load up!”

With a chorus of affirmation, they boarded the skyranger.

***

_Skyranger, En route to UFO crash site_

“What is that?” Abby asked, pointing to the ARC thrower.

Patricia pulled out the weapon and displayed it for them to see. “The newest tech from Engineering. The ARC thrower. Discharges a non-lethal electric shock. The Commander wants more aliens captured and these will help with that.”

“Whatever happened to the sectoid that was captured?” Abby asked, leaning forward.

“Vahlen extracted what she needed and killed it.” Carmelita answered darkly, the first time she addressed anyone other than Patricia. All of them looked at her.

“Oh.” Abby shrugged. “Well, I hope she got what she needed.”

“Vahlen’s excellent at her job,” Patricia stated neutrally. “I’d expect she’d want another one out of curiosity if nothing else.”

Sarah looked between the three of them and the sisters looked at each other. “Uh…” Sarah began hesitantly. “Is that…normal?”

 Patricia cocked her head, not entirely clear on the question. “What is normal?”

“Well,” Sarah began slowly. “Wouldn’t the aliens technically be considered prisoners of war? Isn’t it generally illegal for them to be experimented on?”

Patricia and Carmelita exchanged a look and she could see her body language screamed disgust at that statement. It was honestly something she’d never considered before. She tended to view them the aliens the same way as animals and had never really had any qualms about their well-being. She was about to respond when Carmelita spoke up.

“The aliens are not human,” she practically growled, venom dripping from her voice. “And as such are not covered under international law. Furthermore, they seek to exterminate our species. They do not deserve comfort or mercy. They are animals that butcher men, women and children. The only rights they are entitled to are pain and death.”

That shut her up. While…aggressive, Patricia agreed with most of it.

“What I think she’s trying to say,” Abby added slowly. “Is that we’re not very concerned about the rights of aliens.”

Sarah held up her hands is appeasement. “Got it, sorry. Was just curious.”

“No worries,” Patricia told her. “It’s a perfectly valid question. One that I’ve never really thought about before.”

“Really?” Eden asked, cocking her head. “I thought XCOM was overseen by the United Nations. Wouldn’t they have some sort of guidelines about this sort of thing?”

Patricia chuckled, as did Carmelita. “I take it you haven’t read the contingencies?”

They shook their heads. “Let me put it this way,” she continued wryly. “The Commander cares about the United Nations as much as he does about alien rights.”

“Umm…” Tayla broke in. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“More or less,” Patricia answered. “He’s one of the best people I’ve worked with and has lead XCOM to many victories. I also appreciate someone who isn’t intimidated by politicians and bureaucrats.”

 _“You can discuss the merits or their lack at a later time,”_ the Commander interjected. _“In the meantime, I’d suggest you prepare for the mission ahead.”_

Patricia smiled under her helmet as the new soldiers started at the voice. Looking at Abby, she could also see she was amused as well. “Certainly, Commander,” she answered, amusement in her voice. “Awaiting your orders.”

_“Excellent. Now, Colt Team, you’re being deployed in the Mexican wilderness. The UFO we’ve shot down is one of their scouts, so resistance is estimated to be limited.”_

“How many should we expect?” Patricia asked.

_“Based on previous assaults, anywhere from seven to twelve. Expect sectoids, drones and outsiders at the very least. They may be deploying their more advanced units as well, be cautious of an ambush.”_

“Terrain?”

_“It crashed in a forest. You’ll land outside and proceed inward. Expect them to be ready to defend their craft.”_

“And our objectives.”

_“Twofold. The chances of encountering an outsider are high, and as such, you objective is to capture one of them. Be aware that the ARC thrower has not been tested on the outsiders before. Proceed carefully. Capture as many aliens as possible, kill any you can’t.”_

“How important is it to prioritize capturing them?” Abby asked.

_“The outsider is the priority. Don’t attempt capture of others unless there is an acceptable risk.”_

Abby nodded. “Understood.”

 _“XCOM Analysis is attempting to get satellite coverage over the area. Citadel Command will forward any information to you.”_ The Commander paused. _“You know what to do. Make them pay for what they’ve done. Citadel Command, out.”_

The click signified the end of conversation.

“Well, he certainly doesn’t mince words.” Sarah commented slowly.

Patricia curled her lips into a smile. “That’s one reason we like him.”

Growing more serious, she continued. “Three of you haven’t encountered an outsider. They’re probably the most dangerous alien we’ll encounter today. They’re quick, strong and nearly invulnerable.”

“At least you said ‘nearly.’” Tayla commented.

“They self-regenerate at an alarming rate,” Patricia explained. “And they can absorb our laser weapons as shoot the energy back at us.”

Sarah looked down at her own laser SMG. “Isn’t that going to be a problem?”

Abby shook her head. “The trick is to fire at the same time. The energy absorption will overwhelm it and it will shatter.”

“But _everyone_ has to fire,” Patricia amended. “Otherwise it’ll only be slowed,” she raised a finger. “Which in this case is what we want. Once it is slowed, one of us who has an ARC thrower will attempt to capture it.”

“I can kill any stragglers,” Carmelita said.

“We’ll have a better idea once we’re down there,” Patricia told all of them. “For now, we’ll just proceed carefully.”

_“This is Burning Sky to Colt Team. We’re about two minutes from touchdown. Prepare accordingly.”_

“Copy, Burning Sky,” Patricia responded and stood. A few seconds later the rest of the squad joined her.

She felt the skyranger slightly dip as it lost altitude. The turbulence shook the plane and the sisters grabbed onto the handles above for support. “Lock down vocoders!” She ordered as the skyranger shuddered as they landed.

A few seconds later the skyranger opened with a hiss and groan of metal and hit the dirt with a thud. “Deploy!” Patricia ordered, clutching her autolaser as they charged into the outskirts of the forest.

***

They took positions behind trees and stumps outsider the forest. “We’re in position to proceed.” Patricia informed Citadel Command, weapon at the ready as she looked into the forest.

 _“Understood,”_ the Commander acknowledged. _“Proceed at will. UFO crash estimations place it a short distance into the forest.”_

“Define a ‘short distance.’” Abby asked scanning the forest with her rifle.

 _“Follow the fire and destroyed trees.”_ The Commander answered.

“Got it.” Patricia acknowledged. “Overseer Trask, out.”

This forest wasn’t as dense as some of the others, the trees were fairly spaced out, although the trunks were large enough to take cover behind. Leaves and dead branches littered the ground, emitting relatively loud crunches wherever they stepped.

“Look ahead.” Sarah pointed at several trees that had clearly been snapped as the trunks rested on the ground.

“Move forward carefully.” Patricia ordered and they kept going, taking cover whenever possible before advancing.

Sarah walked over to the trees and kneeled down. “It’s probably directly forward.” She told Patricia, looking up at her and pointing forward.

“Why?” Patricia asked.

“These were hit at high velocity,” she explained. “Enough to snap these tree in two.” She motioned around the forest. “These are also higher than the others.” She pointed at the other trees splayed in various directions. “That explains why none of the smaller trees are affected. Based on where the others landed, it doesn’t look like it approached from the left or right.” She looked at Patricia again. “I’m a Ranger. I know what I’m talking about.”

Patricia gave her a nod. “Very well,” She waved the rest of the squad forward. “Advance carefully.”

They moved forward silently through the forest. The trees were broad enough to shadow them from the moon, which allotted them some additional concealment. Patricia raised a fist as two new sensations hit her. The first was smoke. It was faint, which either meant it wasn’t much or was far away.

The second was the low humming of a UFO. Which meant they were close. “Quiet!” She ordered, looked at them. “You hear that?”

Everyone paused and glanced around, tense and weapons at the ready. “What is that?” Eden asked tentatively.

“A UFO,” Abby answered. “You’ll feel it once we get closer.”

Patricia remembered a tactic Liam had used on another mission and felt it would be appropriate here. “Everyone on the ground. We’re crawling the rest of the way.”

They all nodded or spoke in affirmation and lowered themselves into the leaves and dirt. They moved forward slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Patricia felt the pulsing of whatever the UFO emitted as they got closer, even through the new armor. She still hated it.

“Hold.” She ordered rose to a crouching position behind a fallen tree trunk. They’d made it. The damaged UFO was directly in front of them. Fallen trees and burning wood permeated the area around the fallen craft. The fires weren’t large, but they did exist and would be best to be avoided.

“UFO dead ahead.” She stated, taking a closer look. “Move forward slowly.”

Drones flew over the UFO, sparks flying wherever they paused over it as they tried in vain to repair it. Four sectoids milled around the area, weapons raised and vigilant.

“Hold!” She hissed and the crawling soldiers stopped.

“What is it?” Tayla asked nervously.

“They’re expecting us.” She stated. “I count four sectoids and six drones. There are probably more, but the sectoids are watching.”

“We need a distraction.” Eden muttered.

“Everyone rise to cover position.” Patricia ordered. “Eden, Tayla, you have smoke grenades, correct?”

They all rose behind stumps and tree trunks and the sisters nodded. “We do.”

Patricia pulled out a frag grenade. “When I throw this and they’re distracted, everyone rush up to the closest cover position,” she pointed at the sisters. “Throw the smoke grenades at the sectoids. It will block their sight and then we take out the drones. Understood?”

“Yes, Overseer,” they all answered. She nodded.

“Be ready.” She warned and gave an overhand throw, tossing the grenade a great distance to their left. The sectoids didn’t entirely take the bait, but they all looked over at the loud explosion.

“Now!” Patricia yelled and they charged into position. Beams from Abby and Carmelita immediately blasted two of the drones from the sky and Patricia watched the smoke cartages fly and land in the midst of the sectoids, who chittered in surprise as they emitted purple smoke.

Swinging her rifle around, she began taking aim at the disoriented sectoid. “I’ll suppress them!” She yelled as her autolaser spat large red bolts into the smoke. The sectoids scattered, though one was almost bisected as a laser bolt hit it’s wiry chest.

The drones turned from their repairing duties and began raining orange laser bolts down on the squad. The sisters were clearly familiar with each other and that showed in the way they fought. They covered each other whenever one was under fire or out of power. Both of them took out a drone each.

The sectoids were getting reoriented as the smoke began to dissipate and began firing green plasma bursts at their general direction. Patricia ceased firing as she had to reload and pursed her lips as plasma bolts slammed into the trees behind her.

“Got one!” Sarah yelled as a drone fell from the sky.

“Tayla, Eden!” Patricia yelled. “Take the drones out. Everyone else, concentrate on the sectoids!”

“Understood!” They shouted and the sectoids cowered as beams of red tore into their wooden cover.

“To the right!” Carmelita yelled as she aimed her laser shotgun at the three approaching thin men. There were several small explosions as the remaining drones fell out of the sky. Patricia focused her fire on one of the sectoids, obliterating the cover and eviscerating the little grey alien.

Patricia looked over to see Carmelita reach for something on her belt. A flash-bang. Two sectoids were left and three thin men. Manageable. “Abby, Carmelita, Sarah! Focus on the thin men. Save that flash-bang for my order!”

“They’re running away!” Tayla shouted as the sectoids began making a run for it. The sisters fired in response, and got one. But the other scampered away behind the UFO.

Change of plans. As she observed the thin men begin firing on their position, with red beams hitting their cover as well, she had an idea. This was an ideal capture opportunity, and one that shouldn’t be wasted. But she had to act now before they started spitting acid at them.

“Flash-bang in five!” She ordered, laying down more suppressive fire on the aliens. “Then you and Sarah rush their positon. I want one alive!”

“Copy!” They yelled and Carmelita tossed the cylinder into the middle of the group which exploded with a loud pop which was suppressed by their helmets and the flash was non-existent. Sarah and Carmelita then dashed toward the disoriented aliens

Briefly glancing behind her to ensure no one was sneaking up, she pointed at the disoriented group. “Advance!”

The blinded thin men stumbled and hunkered behind cover and took poor potshots at them to no avail.

 _“Hold fire!”_ Carmelita’s voice yelled over their comms _. “Sarah! Now!”_

Patricia heard a faint electric burst and a thin man scream in pain. As the remaining thin men turned Carmelita slammed into one of them, grabbed it’s head and slammed her knife through it’s chin, then threw the body down as poison started spewing from it’s body.

The last thin man stumbled back and raised his weapon, but was far too slow. Her twin blades slashing rapidly, it dropped it’s weapon as she sliced it’s hand and fingers open and off, yellow blood spewing from the cuts and stumps. With a kick, it fell onto the forest floor and without ceremony, she drew her laser shotgun and blasted the thin man in the face, splattering it’s head into nothing.

She stood there for several seconds, breathing heavily as she stared at the headless corpse.

“Did we get one?” Patricia demanded as she returned her attention to the UFO.

“Yes,” Sarah confirmed. “It’s alive, but out.”

“Excellent-“ she began when Abby interrupted.

“More coming!” Abby yelled and Patricia saw two outsiders exit the burning UFO. Fortunately, they appeared to be the regular ones and not anything like that thing in the Haiti UFO.

“Everyone in position!” She ordered as the outsiders began taking cover and firing at them. Green plasma fire rained around them.

“Sarah!” She yelled. “Symbiote grenades!”

“On it!” She responded and tossed not one, but two of them towards the outsiders. Apparently considering them grenades, they began running out, but were too late as they exploded, spewing the black substance everywhere.

One outsider almost escaped, except that some of it caught onto it’s foot, pinning it in the open. The other one was firmly trapped in the substance, both feet and one arm covered in the stuff.

“Target the outside one!” She yelled as the alien started shooting the substance holding it’s foot. It would take a few shots, but the plasma was already eating into the substance. It froze as three red laser beams tore into it. It only lasted a few seconds longer as everyone else fired their weapons. The energy built up inside it and the outsider shattered into hundreds of pieces.

“This is our chance!” Patricia yelled, pointing at the trapped outsider. “Fire in bursts! Don’t kill it!”

She gestered to Sarah. “Catch!” She shouted and tossed her ARC thrower to the Ranger who caught it and began rushing towards the outsider which was taking limited shots at them, it raised it’s free hand and shot a burst of energy which Sarah dodged. Two laser beams froze it in that position temporarily and Sarah raised the weapon.

A blue burst of electricity ran through the outsider which let out and unnatural electronic screech and Patricia watched in amazement as the creature began folding in on itself, retracting into one, single glowing orange floating crystal which fell onto the rubbery substance with a thud.

“It worked.” Abby breathed in amazement and they all began walking out, weapons still raised.

“Watch out for that last sectoid.” Patricia warned as they walked out in the open.

Sarah had picked up the glowing crystal and looking at it with amazement. “What are these things?” She asked, turning it over.

“Leave that to Vahlen,” Patricia advised, taking the crystal. “We just need to make sure it doesn’t come back. Excellent job.”

 _“Colt Team, be advised that there is still one sectoid in the area.”_ The Commander reminded them.

She nodded. “Understood-“ her eyes widened. “Sarah! Down!” Without waiting for a response she grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her to the ground and stumbled back as three plasma bolts slammed into her. Feeling like she had been repeatedly pummeled, she sank to her knees and looked down in amazement to see that she was still alive. Her armor was scorched, cracked and broken, but it had absorbed the blasts.

Her ears ringing, she heard a faint squeal and with Abby’s help, rose to her feet to see Carmelita beating the sectoid with her fists and weapon. Patricia gently pushed Abby off her and watched as the vengeful woman kick and punch the screaming alien.

“Someone should stop her.” Sarah muttered worriedly as she continued. Patricia could almost see her wince under the helmet.

Patricia was torn. Not because she was particularly concerned about the alien, but because this was a sectoid they could capture. But she wasn’t sure if she should interfere, or just let her be. As the beaten alien lay on the ground, Carmelita standing over it, she pulled out one of her knives and slowly advanced on the alien.

Sarah began walking forward, laser pistol in hand. Patricia grabbed her arm and she spun to face her. “Are you just going to let her torture that thing?” She demanded.

“Let her be.” Patricia stated, steel in her voice. “I’ll handle it.”

 _“Don’t worry_ ,” Carmelita said over the comms, her voice remarkably calm. _“I’m not going to kill it.”_ With that she removed her helmet and let it drop to the ground.

Abby did the same and jogged over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder and told her something. The stone-faced woman nodded and Abby walked back over to her, helmet tucked under her arm.

Patricia approached her. “What did you tell her?” She asked quietly.

Abby’s face was as expressionless as she’d ever seen. “Where to cut to avoid killing it. I saw the autopsy, I know how easily it can be to kill these things.”

Patricia blinked. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you would support this.”

“When I started, I didn’t” she answered as Carmelita began cutting into the alien which emitted loud wails of anguish. “But I don’t care anymore. These aliens don’t deserve anything from us. If Carmelita wants to take vengeance for Shawn, I certainly won’t stop her.”

Abby certainly wasn’t the same green rookie she’d been when she first arrived. She’d changed. All of them had.

Time to call it in. “Citadel Command, we’ve finished up here. Send in Artifact Recovery.”

_“Copy that, Colt Team. Excellent work.”_

With that, they gathered the captives and waited. All the while the screams of the tortured sectoid filled the air.

***

After-Action Report

Operation: Valkyrie

_Personnel:_

Colt 1 (Squad Overseer): Specialist Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 2

Colt 2: Specialist Abigail Gertrude

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 2

Colt 3: Specialist Carmelita Alba

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 3

Colt 4: Private Tayla Rayna

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 2

Colt 5: Private Eden Rayna

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 2

Colt 6: Private Sarah Liber

            **Status:** Active

 **Kills:** 1

 

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Riley Ignis – Call sign: “Burning Sky”

 

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-3x Sectoid Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-6x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-2x Thin Men Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-1x Sectoid Captive

-1x Thin Men Captive

-1x Outsider Crystal

-1x Alien Power Source (Damaged)

-1x Alien Flight Computer (Damaged)

-1x Alien Flight Computer

-28x Alien Weapon Fragments

-80x Alien Alloys (Stripped from UFO)

-1x Canister of Unidentified Alien Substance                                 


	28. Alien Abduction: Saudi Arabia

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

“[I never thought I would actually meet you,]” Anneli Reinhard almost gushed. “[This is the last place I’d expect someone like you to be.]”

Luke had to smile at that. The KSK operative had learned who he was soon after arriving and had come over to as soon as possible to say hello. With all that had been going on, he’d sort of forgotten that he was still a fairly well-known figure in Germany, thanks to the stories of what he’d done being covered up.

He certainly wasn’t disappointed at all though. It had been a while since he’d spoken to a native German, excluding the Hamburg mission. “[To be honest,]” he answered. “[It really wasn’t somewhere I ever expected to be either.]”

She brushed some strands of brown hair out of her face. “[So how’d you get here in the first place, if you don’t mind my asking? Did they come to you as well?]”

He took a sip of water. “[Something like that,]” he deflected, deciding to change the subject. “[What about you?]”

She seemed happy to share. “[The Defense Minister asked me if I wanted to take a more active role against the aliens,]” she answered, resting her arms on the table. “[And I said yes. A few days later, here I am.]”

“[Do you know Karl?]” He asked, referring to the other KSK operative that had arrived with her.

“[I’ve talked with him some,]” she answered with a shrug. “[But I don’t know him _too_ well. He was in a different unit than I was.]”

He set his glass on the table. “[Well, I’m glad you’re with us,]” he told her sincerely. “[We need all the help we can get.]”

“[So how long have you been here?]” She asked, curiosity in her green eyes. “[Or did you just come in as well?]”

He shook his head. “[No, I’ve been here since the first abductions.]”

Her eyes widened. “[Really? I had no idea you were valued that much,]” she winced. “[Ah, sorry. But I just never thought you were-]”

“[Military?]” He finished with a smile. “[It’s a long story. Suffice to say I made an impression on some people.]”

“[So you know most of the people here?]” She questioned, looking around.

“[Most of them,]” he answered. “[I can give names on everyone that didn’t recently arrive, but I mostly keep to myself.]” He paused, a new thought occurring. “[Why do you ask?]”

She very deliberately looked to the right. “[Do you know who that hooded woman is whose been glaring at me for the past few minutes?]”

Luke looked over to see Mira leaning against the wall of the fairly busy Mess Hall. Despite her hood obscuring her face as usual, he could tell she was watching them. Her crossed arms contrasted her relaxed posture, but he supposed she usually looked like that anyway. He made his best questioning face at her trying to convey _‘What are you doing?’_ to her.

She just gave a slow nod in return. He shrugged and returned his attention to Anneli. “[That is Mira Vauner. Just ignore her for now. She’s suspicious of people.]”

“[Who is she?]” Anneli asked, relaxing and looking back to him. “[Some kind of intelligence operative?]”

“[Something like that,]” he answered, not wanting to reveal something she wouldn’t want known. “[She was part of the Israeli Mossad. A Kidon agent to be specific.]”

She hacked on her drink at that. “[Sorry,]” she apologized after a few seconds. “[But…that’s unsettling.]”

He frowned at her. “[Why?]”

“[How much do you know about the Kidon?]” She asked slowly, leaning back.

“[The black ops of Israel, if I recall.]” He answered, amused. “[I know about the Kidon. She’d told me quite a bit.]”

“[She told you?]” Anneli asked skeptically. “[And you…believe her?]”

“[Yes,]” he answered without hesitation. “[I do.]”

“[Hmm,]” she frowned. “[You’re friends with her?]”

He paused before answering. “[Pretty good friends, I’d say. At least by her standards.]”

“[I suppose,]” she answered, sounding unconvinced. “[I guess I’m just not as used to being near people like her.]” She gave an apologetic shrug. “[Spies just naturally make me uneasy.]”

“[Oh, I understand,]” he answered easily. “[Mira can be off-putting. But she’s friendlier than she used to be.]”

“[Well, I suppose that’s reassuring,]” she grinned. “[Before one of us leaves, could you do something for me?]”

He smiled. There were only a few possibilities. “[Certainly.]”

She pulled out two cards. “[Could you sign these? My younger brother would love this.]”

He took the cards and began signing. “[Two for your brother?]” He ribbed.

“[Not exactly, one’s for me,]” she clarified with a blush.

He handed them back with a smile. “[There you go.]”

“[Thanks.]” She answered as she put them away.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you give autographs,” Patricia commented as she walked up. “I forgot you’re a big deal outside of XCOM.”

Luke looked up, giving her a small smile. “No one ever asked,” He answered, switching back to English and he motioned at Anneli. “This is Anneli Reinhard.”

“You’re KSK, correct?” Patricia asked her, taking a seat.

“Correct,” she answered with a nod, also switching to English. “Patricia, right? I’ve heard about you as well. British Army?”

“Royal Marines,” Patricia corrected. “And I was mostly involved in a joint operation with an Irish unit for most of it.”

“There’s certainly a wide range of military forces represented,” Anneli commented. “Doesn’t that ever become a problem?”

Patricia and Luke exchanged a look. “Not really,” Luke shrugged. “I guess where we came from isn’t really that important when we’re facing aliens.”

“That’s not to say everyone has got along,” Patricia corrected. “There’s been some disagreements. But overall, everyone has at least tolerated each other.”

“For now,” Luke amended. “It might change if we ever get soldiers from North Korea or Saudi Arabia.”

Patricia shook her head. “North Korea doesn’t share their soldiers. And besides, I doubt the Commander would let that happen.”

“Don’t you have an Iranian here already?” Anneli asked, sounding confused. “Why would Saudi Arabia be different?”

“Marten,” Luke nodded. “Yes, though he hasn’t caused too many problems,” Patricia smirked at that. “But I think that Iran sent a soldier that would best assimilate here,” Luke continued. “They know better than to cause issues.”

Patricia tapped her finger lightly on the table. “Do you follow world politics?”

Anneli shook her head. “Not really. I know I should, but, well…” she trailed off. “Germany has recently been more concerned about countries directly outside our borders. Not to mention the aliens. Everyone in the KSK has been working overtime the past half year. I just haven’t had the time or inclination.”

“Understandable,” Patricia nodded. “In any event, pretty all of the Middle East, barring Israel, is a shell of what it was, pre-War on Terror. Most of them are more or less pacified and go out of their way not to cause issues.”

“Except Saudi Arabia.” Anneli guessed.

“They lost pretty much everything that made their country valuable,” Patricia explained with a shrug. “They’re not taking their losses well. It’s a dictatorship at the moment. A fairly strict one.”

“They aren’t imposing Sharia Law are they?” Anneli asked incredulously.

“ _No.”_ Luke and Patricia stated emphatically at the same time. “They may be bitter, but they’re not stupid,” Luke corrected, shaking his head. “That would warrant some kind of response. Maybe not from the UN, but Israel wouldn’t stand for it.”

“Correct,” Patricia nodded. “No, this is just a regular dictatorship. The people are treated well, more or less, but not because the surviving Saudi Royalty actually cares. They’re terrified Israel will just decide to finish what the Commander started if they make things _too_ bad.”

“So they’re in consolidation mode is what you’re saying,” Anneli asked to confirm.

“Essentially,” Patricia confirmed. “Not that it will do them any good. The days of them with global influence

“Huh,” Anneli said thoughtfully. “Interesting.” She grabbed her glass and stood up. “Well, thanks.” She looked at Luke and a smile returned to her face. “It was nice meeting you, Luke. You as well, Patricia.”

“Anytime.” he told her, inclining his head.

“I look forward to working with you.” Patricia also told her.

Once she walked away, Patricia scooted over to where she had sat, until she was facing him. “A nice woman, I suppose,” she said, resting her arms on the table and looking at him expressionlessly. “I’ve never worked with the KSK before. Though I’ve heard good things.”

“It’s a select few,” Luke agreed. “Sorry, I don’t know much about them either.”

“Wouldn’t expect you to,” she said with a dismissive wave.

Luke eyed her suspiciously. “Why do I get the feeling you didn’t come here for an idle chat?”

“And just why would you think that?” She asked, cocking her head, her face unreadable to him.

He sighed. “Mostly with how unsubtly you injected yourself into my conversation. It wasn’t exactly smooth.”

She frowned. “Really? I thought it was decent.”

His lips curled up in amusement. “You should probably practice more next time,” he suggested, then waved a hand, motioning her to continue. “Anyway, what do you want to discuss?”

“You and Mira.” She said neutrally. His heart skipped a beat, and for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why. Probably because out of everything to discuss, _that_ topic wasn’t one he was expecting.

He raised an eyebrow and frowned. “Sorry? _What_ about me and Mira?”

“She’s been spending a lot of time with you,” Patricia continued, her tone still without inflection.

“Yes…” Luke agreed, not quite sure what she was getting at. “And...?”

Patricia let out an exasperated sigh. “ _And_ you haven’t asked yourself why _Mira_ , someone who has repeatedly stated that emotions, attachments and friendships are weaknesses, is now suddenly taking to you. You are, if I’m not mistaken, an actual human.”

Ah. Yes, he supposed that from her point of view, it might make Mira look suspicious in regards to him. Still, it didn’t really concern him. He smiled at Patricia. “Let me guess,” he said with a touch of amusement. “You think she’s using me for some reason or taking advantage of me. Am I right?”

“I suppose I should be relieved that you realize the possibility,” Patricia replied, leaning forward. “But it’s a legitimate concern. One you apparently don’t seem to care about.”

He also leaned forward, growing more serious. “While I appreciate your concern, Patricia, you don’t know her. You don’t know what she’s been through. There are reasons for her actions and feelings and all you see in her right now is what she wants you to see. You took her at face value and decided to work with it, I made an attempt to actually know her and as a result, consider her a friend. Is that hard to understand.”

“No,” Patricia insisted. “But Mira isn’t normal. She’s a spy. She lies and manipulates people as her job and she certainly doesn’t do things without reason.”

He was silent for a few seconds. “I understand that, Patricia. And maybe if she’d been the one taking all the initiative, I might agree.” He paused. “But I was the one who decided to talk to her and it just went from there. People aren’t always what they seem.”

Patricia appraised him, the suspicion in her eyes mixed with curiosity. “What exactly prompted you to talk to her in the first place?”

Luke thought back. “It was back when Myra and her had that argument about the Commander. I went to apologize for Myra’s idiotic comment.”

“And then I suppose you kept talking,” Patricia continued following. “Why? If you don’t mind my asking.”

He shrugged. “Because I was interested in what made her into what she is. No one else seemed interested in trying to befriend her. I know what it’s like to wear a mask around people and it’s rather lonely. I won’t put someone through that, not if I can do something.”

“And I suppose it worked,” Patricia continued thoughtfully. “She seems pretty open with you now.”

He frowned. “Don’t make it sound like this is some scheme. If she had a problem with me she would have said it.” He paused. “Let’s go with the theory that _this_ is some massive scheme by Mira. What could _I_ possibly have that she’d want?”

“I don’t know.” She admitted.

“Because there is nothing to know,” he stated firmly. “We are close friends, believe it or not. I know you like to come up with answers to everything, but sometimes, the simplest answer is the correct one. There isn’t some complicated scheme for you to unravel.”

She pursed her lips. “Perhaps. I suppose you do know more than me in this case.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That was quick.”

“I’m not convinced yet,” she corrected. “But you aren’t stupid and would probably know if something was up.”

His lip twitched. “I’m pleased you have such confidence in my skills.”

“Don’t mention it,” They lapsed into silence for a few minutes. “Are you married?” she asked suddenly. “Or involved with someone?”

He coughed in surprise. “Um…why?” He asked. “Furthermore, what does that have to do with anything?”

“Indulge me,” she said, a glint in her eye. “I’m curious.”

“I _was_ married,” he told her slowly, not quite sure where this was going or what she would get out of it. “Not anymore.”

“May I ask why?”

He sighed. Well, it wasn’t as though it was a secret. “She died, if you must know. Do you have a point with this?”

Her eyes widened. “ _Ah_ ,” she muttered in an epiphany. “That makes sense.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?” He asked suspiciously.

She hesitated for a second. “What are your feelings towards her?”

“Mira?” He asked, getting a clue where she was going and not entirely comfortable with it. “I think she’s a complicated woman and care about her a great deal.”

“Rather honest,” she quipped amused. “Not exactly what I expected.”

“I’m only saying this because I know you have a point,” he stated, some steel creeping in his voice. “And I’m _certain_ you’re going to tell me what it is.”

“Perhaps,” she mused, not quite keeping the amusement out of her voice. “Any romantic inclinations?”

And there she went. “Continuing with the honesty,” he continued, his tone more brittle. “That was a possibility I ruled out long ago.”

“And just why was that?” Patricia inquired.

“The fact that her husband was killed,” he reminded her. “Rather horribly if I recall. I took some pains to ensure I wasn’t coming across that way.”

“How very interesting,” Patricia commented, still amused. “But I do see that you didn’t quite answer my question. Did you have any romantic intentions, willingly or otherwise??”

Yeah, this conversation was done. “I will neither confirm nor deny.”

“No need,” she assured him with a faint smile. “You told me all I needed.”

“And I think I deserve to know why you talking me into sharing that.” Luke demanded, more annoyed with himself than her for even letting himself be talked into this line of conversation.

Patricia lost her smile and looked at him seriously. “I think both of you should have a talk. Not about politics or whatever you normally talk about. Each other.”

“I get the feeling you’re hiding information,” he said icily. “That isn’t an answer.”

She sighed. “Use your brain. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” She stood up. “It’s up to you, of course. But it’s what I would suggest. Don’t waste an opportunity, especially if she’s actually who you think she is.” With that she, stepped away from the table and walked away.

He glared after her. “Damn you, Patricia.” He muttered under his breath as thoughts unbidden came to him from her words. This was the last thing he needed. But if he _was_ interpreting her correctly…

He scowled. He needed to think. Somewhere quiet.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

“North America should be secured,” Van Doorn stated as he scrutinized the map on the holotable. “Mexico is the only major area left without coverage.”

“Certainly,” the Commander nodded. “But once that it secure, where to next?”

“I assume you have an idea?” Van Doorn asked, looking at him.

“South America is the next obvious choice,” the Commander answered slowly, resting his chin on his fist. “However, it’s not exactly a hive of alien activity.”

“Europe, perhaps?” Van Doorn suggested, pointing to the map. “Several major Council members are in that vicinity and would reassure them things are under control.”

“The problem with that is it’s far away,” the Commander pointed out. “I don’t want to expand beyond our reach. We have nothing in place to prevent those satellites from simply being shot down. South America is at least relatively close.”

“So you want another base in Europe?” Van Doorn asked.

“Not even,” the Commander clarified. “We don’t have the soldiers to justify another Citadel. An airstrip would be sufficient.”

Van Doorn looked down, pondering that. “I know NATO has some airstrips in the area,” he said, pointing to Germany. “In fact, I’m sure the Defense Minister would be willing to allow XCOM to use one of Germany’s.”

“That would be ideal,” the Commander admitted. “Provided we could, several new Ravens would have to be made and deployed over. It would cut into our funds.”

“It might be needed,” Van Doorn insisted. “When it comes down to it, Europe is more important than South America.”

The Commander nodded. “We agree on that,” he zoomed in the map. “I’ll speak with the Defense Minister to see if something can be worked out. It’s something that should be done on every continent, really.”

“I can talk with NATO,” Van Doorn promised. “I’ll see about using airstrips in Asia and Africa.”

“I’ll have Shen begin constructing some new Ravens,” the Commander said, looking at the map. “However, the decision on where to allocate coverage will be decided by all of the Internal Council. Not just us.”

“A good idea,” Van Doorn nodded as he looked down on the map. “As long as we’re here, I do have a question about one of your contingencies.”

Hm. This could be interesting. He looked over at the General. “Which one?”

“The Hephaestus Contingency,” he clarified, motioning toward the map. “Have you made preparations for it?”

“Preliminary,” the Commander responded, grateful that it was a pretty easy question to answer. “It needs to be in an area friendly to XCOM and right now, only two fit that description.”

“Germany and Israel.” Van Doorn finished.

“Right,” he confirmed. “At the moment, I’m thinking somewhere in the Middle East would be a good location.”

“Where?” Van Doorn frowned. “There aren’t many options.”

“Saudi Arabia would be ideal,” the Commander said thoughtfully. “There is a lot of infrastructure we could use.”

“I doubt the Saudis would agree,” Van Doorn answered, amused. “Or let us anywhere near them.”

The Commander pursed his lips. “No, they wouldn’t. But that wouldn’t be a problem if they weren’t there to argue.”

Van Doorn looked over and frowned, his face concerned. “I don’t think overthrowing a government is a good idea. Nor do I think XCOM should become involved on the world stage. We risk looking like opportunists or worse.”

The Commander shook his head. “I’m certainly not suggesting we send in our forces.” He paused. “But if a country friendly to us was to take over…we would be fools to not take advantage.”

Van Doorn looked over in amazement. “You would seriously support an Israeli invasion of Saudi Arabia?”

The Commander sighed and looked Van Doorn in the eye. “Tell me honestly, wouldn’t you? That place is run by a dictator clinging to what little authority he has left. Saudi Arabia is irrelevant now and the King is taking it out on the citizens.”

“What I want or not is irrelevant,” Van Doorn defended. “Regardless of justification, Israel can’t go around invading countries just because they don’t like the government. There are unintended consequences of regime change and too many would cause chaos, something we don’t need right now. We have to respect that nation’s sovereignty, even if we don’t agree with it.”

The Commander pursed his lips. “We may not have a choice. The fate of humanity comes before the sovereignty of a nation.”

“Let’s cross that bridge when it actually matters,” Van Doorn advised. “In the meantime-“

The intercom beeped, cutting the General off. The Commander pressed the answer button. “Yes?”

_“Commander,”_ Bradford answered, sounding torn between amusement and apprehension. _“We’ve got new abduction reports coming in.”_

“Where?” the Commander demanded.

_“Saudi Arabia, the entire population of the town_ _Al-H̨arīq has gone missing. The town went dark about an hour ago and no one has heard from anyone since.”_

Well, what were the odds of that? “Acknowledged, Bradford,” he responded. “I’ll prep a squad right away.”

_“I’d suggest you hurry,”_ Bradford warned. _“We’ve intercepted messages that indicate that the Saudi Armed Forces are moving into that area.”_

The Commander pursed his lips at that. “Understood,” he answered grimly. “We’ll move quickly.”

_“Copy that, I’ll inform you if anything changes. Central, out.”_

The Commander looked at Van Doorn. “I don’t suppose you’d know if the King will negotiate?”

“Unlikely,” Van Doorn answered slowly, looking at the map, now with a highlighted red dot where the abductions had happened. “The United Nations attempted to restore relations after most of the Royalty was wiped out, but they…refused. I doubt they’d listen now, especially if it involves an armed force entering their country.”

“Regardless, we can’t allow them to get their hands on alien technology,” the Commander stated firmly. “Even though the aliens have the technological advantage, they might be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.”

“Do you think we can send a squad in time?” Van Doorn asked, looking at the map, likely envisioning timelines.

“It depends on how large a force is sent,” the Commander mused. “A large one, yes, no doubt. But smaller units might arrive before us.”

“Then we have no time to waste,” Van Doorn stated.

The Commander nodded at him. “Want to take this one?”

The General nodded. “Yes. I should get some experience in this position.”

“I’ll advise where I can,” the Commander said, pulling up maps of the area. “You get a squad together and I’ll coordinate with Bradford.”

“Let’s do it.” Van Doorn said as he took a tablet and started compiling a list of soldiers.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

The vibration on his wrist jarred Luke awake and he woke up almost instantly. His idea had been to rest and clear his head, but it had been much harder to do than he thought. He’d hovered in some in-between state before falling into a fitful sleep. A sleep now broken.

He rolled up and rubbed his eyes. Shaking his head to clear it of the confusing and conflicting feelings, he stood and began donning his armor. The task proved distracting enough so he didn’t focus too much on his thoughts.

“Do you know the mission?” He started as Mira’s voice broke through his trance. Pulling on his gauntlets, he looked over at her and shook his head.

“No, just woke up.”

“Tired?” She asked, cocking her head.

He sighed. “Confused and conflicted,” he admitted, then shook his head. “I’ll tell you once I get back. I think we should talk about some things.” It was easier saying that than he thought.

Mira gave a single nod. “Very well.” She walked over and grabbed his chest piece and adjusted it. Satisfied, she reached in his locker and handed his laser SMG to him.

He took it and slung it over his back. “Take this,” Mira handed him an ARC thrower. “You’re better geared to use it than me.” He took the tool and hung it on his belt. Mira stepped back and looked him up and down.

“Good luck,” she told him softly as he donned his helmet. “I look forward to your return.” He smiled at that.

“Don’t worry,” he told her lightly. “I have no plans of dying today.” With a wave he left the barracks and began walking towards the hanger, determined to keep the promise he’d made.

However, he knew that it was only going to get more difficult the more missions he went on. But this was one he wasn’t going to die on. Not now. A few minutes later he arrived at the hanger and saw a small group of soldiers waiting near the skyranger.

He recognized one of the Chinese soldiers, Afif, right? He remembered the name after that one time he’d made food for all of them. He was chatting with Anneli and another man Luke didn’t recognize. They looked up at his approach.

“Luke!” Anneli greeted enthusiastically. “Glad you’re with us.”

“Nice to see you again,” he told her, and inclined his head towards Afif. “Afif, glad to see you.”

“The famous olympian,” the new soldier commented, his British accent clear through his helmet.  “I’ve heard a lot about you. Didn’t expect you here, though.” He extended a hand. “Augustine Ingen, a pleasure.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He answered, taking the hand. “British Armed Forces?”

“Royal Air Force,” he corrected. “Although I guess that would fall under the Armed Forces.”

“You met Patricia yet?” He asked.

“We’ve spoken,” he answered. “But we’ve never met before.”

“Do we know what the op is?” Afif asked them.

“Nope.” Augustine answered. “But I know whose leading it.”

“Who?” Luke asked. “Myra? Liam?” It generally wasn’t anyone outside a select few soldiers who were designated squad overseer.

“Neither,” the British man shook his head. “Anius Creed.”

Luke frowned under his helmet. “One of the new soldiers, right.”

“Not just any soldier,” Afif corrected. “A SEAL.”

“Oh.” Luke could see why he’d be put in charge. The United States SEALs were widely regarded as some of the best special forces in the world, if not the best. “That’s good, right?”

From his tone, Augustine didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. “We’ll see.”

“You don’t like them?” Luke questioned, folding his arms.

Augustine let out an audible sigh. “SEALs are some of the best soldiers in the world. They are also some of the most arrogant, egotistical, self-absorbed people to ever exist.”

“I’m guessing this is from personal experience,” Luke guessed.

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice faintly bitter. “They offered some assistance to us once. I’ve never felt more useless in my life.”

“Speak for yourself,” Anneli shrugged. “I’ve spoken with people who’ve said the exact opposite.”

“Then let’s hope Anius Creed fits into that category.” Augustine said with a shrug.

“How did you learn he was leading, anyway?” Luke asked, looking at Augustine.

“I saw him talking to that Iranian soldier,” he answered. “Repeatedly heard talk about a “mission” of some kind. Wasn’t hard to put it together.”

So Marten was going to be on the mission was well. Good to know. He heard the door hiss and open as Marten, Jason Olgard and one of the largest men Luke had ever seen walked through.

Olgard had his aviation helmet donned and Marten had his helmet on as well. The man Luke assumed was Anius Creed had his tucked under his arm, his face stony and expressionless. Black hair covered his distinctly Asian features and the light brightened his tan skin.

“Prepare the skyranger,” he heard him order Olgard, in a rich, commanding voice. “We’ll be on in a moment.”

“Yes, Overseer!” the pilot answered quickly and jogged into the vehicle.

Anius turned to the rest of the squad. “Form up.” He ordered and they quickly assembled into a line, including Marten.

The SEAL inclined his head. “Apologies if I don’t know your names right away, that will be discussed on the way,” he clasped his hands behind his back. “My name is Anius Creed, Navy SEAL. I’m in command and will expect your complete cooperation. Follow orders and we will have no problems. Do not and there will be. Understood?”

“Yes, Overseer!” They shouted in response. So he was a strict military guy, Luke noted, good to know.

Anius gave one nod and donned his helmet. “Excellent,” he told them, the synthesized voice making it sound more menacing than usual. He motioned toward the skyranger. “Load up! Let’s kill some aliens!”

* * *

 

_Skyranger, En route of Abduction Zone_

A few minutes into the flight, Anius addressed Luke. “Warner, correct?”

He nodded. “Yes, Overseer.”

He waved a hand. “You don’t need to use my rank all the time, it gets tiring. Regardless, you’ve fought the aliens before. Anything essential outside the vids?”

He thought, trying to come up with something he wouldn’t already know. “Sectoid psionics seem to have issues when put under pressure, thin men might disguise themselves as civilians and drones aren’t dangerous at all.”

“And the aliens you encountered in Hamburg?” He pressed.

“The mechanical disks seems vulnerable when they opened up,” he recalled, looking up. “But were nigh invulnerable otherwise.” He suppressed a shudder as he remembered the purple creatures. “And the alien insect-animal things…don’t let them get close.”

“Good enough,” he nodded. “You were given an ARC thrower?”

He looked down at the weapon. “Yes.”

“Could be useful,” he said, looking around. “But don’t go for captures unless I give the order.”

They all nodded, then a new voice came into their helmets. _“This is Tactical Advisor Van Doorn to Giant Team. You’re being deployed to Saudi Arabia. A town has gone dark and we have a limited window to act.”_

Well, that was an interesting place to abduct. He wondered if the aliens knew what they were doing when they chose that town. “Any intel on the site?” Anius asked.

_“It’s one of the largest towns to be the target of abduction,”_ Van Doorn answered. _“But we’ve acquired the map of the town, sending to you now.”_

“Received.” Anius confirmed and Luke blinked. When had Van Doorn taken over? Huh. It seemed that the General was working closely with the Commander than he’d thought. Good to know.

“Any idea on what aliens forces to expect?” Anius continued.

_“Negative. Though with a town this large, they probably needed quite a few.”_

“Good to know.”

_“_ Is the Saudi government aware we’re arriving?” Marten asked, tightness in his voice.

_“Negative,”_ Van Doorn confirmed. _“We’ve been unable to make contact.”_ His voice was tinged with resignation. _“And I suspect they wouldn’t have a positive reaction, regardless.”_

“Are we to keep a low profile?” Anius asked, leaning forward.

_“We have intel that suggests the Saudi Armed Forces are moving into the area,”_ Van Doorn informed them. _“You need to get there, clear the area, and get out and they won’t know any better.”_

“And if we _do_ encounter them?” Anius asked.

There was silence for a few seconds. _“Attempt to deescalate the situation,”_ Van Doorn finally said. _“Then proceed from there.”_

“Is the Thanatos Contingency active?” Anius asked.

_“Not yet,”_ Van Doorn stated. _“That may change if the Saudis are hostile.”_

Anius looked at Marten. “El-Amin. How likely are the Saudis to stand down if we encounter them?”

The young man hesitated as all eyes turned to him. “Honestly,” he admitted. “Not likely, especially if you're in charge and she’s here.” He motioned to Anneli.

He could hear the frown in Afif’s voice. “Why would that be a problem?”

“He’s an American, she’s a woman,” he answered with a shrug. “They don’t like foreigners regardless, but they especially loathe Americans. They don’t have the highest respect for women either.”

“Archaic idiots,” Anneli muttered. “I sometimes forget places like that still exist.”

“Let me do the talking if we encounter them,” Marten insisted. “They’ll respond better to someone speaking their own language.”

“Agreed,” Anius nodded. “Just to be clear, General Van Doorn, that is an order _not_ to engage if fired upon?”

_“No,”_ Van Doorn answered reluctantly. _“If fired upon, the Thanatos Contingency is active. But under no circumstances are you to engage first. It’d be preferable if you finish before it gets to that point. Tensions with Saudi Arabia are shaky as it is.”_

“Understood,” Anius nodded. “We’ll work quickly.”

_“The Commander and I will provide information as needed,”_ Van Doorn finished. _“Good luck. Citadel Command, out.”_

Anius immediately switched comms after the line went dead. “Big Sky, what’s our drop location.”

_“Just inside the town, Overseer.”_ Big Sky responded. _“Marking on your map.”_

“Change location,” Anius ordered. “Land inside the housing district. That’s the most populated area.”

_“Can do,”_ Big Sky warned. _“But it’s risky. You might be dropping right into a nest of aliens.”_

“We don’t have a choice,” Anius said grimly. “Not if we want to finish before the Saudis arrive.”

_“Understood, marking new location now.”_

“Once we drop down, get into cover immediately,” Anius ordered as he pulled out his rifle. “We’ll proceed from there.”

“Understood.” They all said and flew in silence for a few minutes.

_“We’re a few minutes out,”_ Big Sky warned some time later. _“Prepare to deploy.”_

“Roger,” Anius confirmed. “We’ll be ready.” He stood up and strode to the end of the skyranger and the rest of them followed suit. The sounds of hissing and metal clinging together echoed through the skyranger as the squad readied their weapons. Luke clutched his own laser SMG in anticipation of the drop.

The skyranger shook as it entered into a steep dive and he almost reached up to grab one of the handles. _“Opening in five!”_ Big Sky called as it suddenly straightened out and came for a halt.

The ramp hissed open and ropes deployed.

“Go!” Anius ordered as he charged out, grabbed a rope and started sliding down. The rest of the attached their hooks to the ropes and followed him down into the dark town under the full Arabian moon.

* * *

 

_Saudi Arabia, Al-H̨arīq_

The work of the aliens was plainly seen. Several canisters of that green substance were place along the streets and dozens of people were frozen in green cocoons, most of them still in a positon of trying to escape.

“We’ve touched down,” Anius confirmed to Citadel Command. “Looks like the aliens haven’t collected these ones yet.”

_“Understood. You are cleared to proceed.”_

Anneli knelt down beside one of the cocooned victims and placed her hand on its neck. “I can’t tell if they’re still alive or not.”

“Unimportant,” Anius stated. “We’ll find out once we deal with the aliens.” He pointed forward down the street. “Forward. Get into cover and don’t move until I give the order. Warner, Reinhard, take the roofs.”

“Yes, sir!” They acknowledged and Luke grabbed a rusty ladder and began climbing onto the small sand-blasted building. Looking around, he still didn’t see anything.”

_“Move up_ ,” Anius ordered and he made sure to be a little ahead of where the squad was, a shadow just in case. He paused as he heard shuffling and grunting.

“Hold!” He hissed. “I hear something.”

There was silence as everyone listened attentively. Luke heard it again, a guttural grunt and lumbering footsteps. He raised his weapon in anticipation.

“ _I hear it,”_ Anius confirmed through his helmet. _“It sounds large. Hold position and be ready to fire.”_

_“Giant Team,”_ Van Doorn interjected. _“We’re detecting some signatures coming forward. Probably aliens.”_

_“Copy.”_ Anius answered tensely. _“Weapons ready to fire on my command.”_

Weapons all raised and pointed at the intersection where the unknown signatures were coming, they waited a tense few minutes before it finally happened. Three of those green-armored hulking creatures walked past, holding their plasma rifles in a relaxed position.

“Fire!” Anius ordered and beams of red light tore across the street and the aliens. Two struck the unhelmeted aliens in the head and they collapsed to the ground. Several beams struck the armor of the remaining one but didn’t kill it.

It roared and ran to cover. Luke took a few shots since he had a better angle from above. The laser cut some chunks out of the wall it was hiding behind, but not enough. “I think we’re going to have more soon!” He called as the alien let out a bellowing roar.

“Above you!” Anneli yelled as she turned her weapon towards the upper left. He glanced up to see four drone flying his way. Was that it?

_“Focus on the drones,”_ Anius ordered. _“We’ll take this alien out.”_

“Copy.” He aimed his SMG and with his helmet’s targeting computer, lined up shots on the drones and fired. The combined fire from him and Anneli rent two of the drones to unrecognizable metal and the others dodged as best they could, little red laser bursts raining down on him.

One bolt slammed into his shoulder and he winced at the impact. The shoulder was scorched, but otherwise he was fine. “Just grazed!” He called out then turned back and shot the offending drone out of the sky.

The final drone started flying towards him, seemingly not caring about shooting anymore. He frowned. What was it doing? The drone started sparking as it got closer and his eyes widened in understanding. Anneli recognized the same thing. “It’s going to blow!” she warned him, taking a few shots at the drone and missed. “Get down!”

He took a chance and dashed out of cover, then jumped onto the roof behind him. Turning around once he was relatively safe, he saw Anneli shoot a cracking laser into the drone which went up in a brilliant explosion that rocked him back.

_“Check!”_ Anius called as plasma fire still blazed towards them from the one lone alien. _“What was that?”_

“We’re fine!” Luke called down as he moved back into position and lined up a shot on the alien. “Those drones have some sort of self-destruct feature.”

_“Good to known. Afif! Suppressive fire!”_ Afif let loose several quick bursts with his laser rifle forcing the alien to stay in position. Marten, Augustine and Anius charged a little bit forward and took better cover behind the corners of buildings.

“More incoming!” Augustine yelled and pointed at the group of green-armored aliens coming their way. To his dismay Luke counted not three, but _six_. Two of the aliens took a position in the far house, each taking a side of the open door. The others took cover behind rusty cars and building corners.

They would be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of firepower within seconds. Anius seemed to come to the same conclusion. “ _Flashbang the far two!”_ He pointed at the aliens in the building. _“Luke, Anneli, suppress the ones on the corners. Everyone else use grenades, I’ll take the one on the car.”_

They all yelled in confirmation and Luke fired quick bursts at the aliens, attempting to spread his fire out evenly. Augustine threw a flash-bang into the house where the two aliens were taking cover and it went off with a pop. A very good throw, actually.

While the aliens covered their eyes, Marten and Afif tossed frag grenades at the corners which went off with successful explosions. The aliens hit roared and three of them had shredded armor and were seeping yellow blood, but they were still alive.

But briefly exposed. Luke aimed and shot one of the weakened ones in the chest and the laser bored through the weakened armor and the alien collapsed to the ground. Anneli also shot another in the head and it fell back.

Anius charged the alien behind the car and the alien seemed surprised by the unexpected attack and swung it’s weapon his way. It managed to let off a few shots but all of them missed and Anius shot a burning laser in it’s face in return. Luke paused to quickly reload and surveyed the battlefield.

Four aliens were left, two weakened. They were starting to recover now and he took a chance and dashed up and had a brief shot on one weakened one. Yellow blood covering it’s face and chest, it looked up in surprise just in time for a laser to hit it square in the eye.

Unfortunately, his friend also had a decent shot on him and fired. He gritted his teeth as the green bolts flew past his face. He could hear the impact of the plasma slamming into the stones and felt the vibrations as it slowly gave way.

“I’m pinned down!” he yelled as he reload his weapon.

_“Acknowledged.”_ Anius responded calmly. _“Augustine! Blow out that wall.”_

_“With pleasure!”_ He waited a few seconds as green fire flew past him and tensed as an explosion rocked the ground. He took a chance and peeked out to see that the entrance of the house two aliens had been hiding behind was gone and the building groaned and creaked. With a crash, the roof collapsed on top of the aliens, pinning them to the ground.

Anneli and Augustine fired two shots and executed the pinned aliens. Two more remained. He aimed his weapon at one alien still hiding behind another corner. It was firing as best it could at Marten, but failing to hit him. He looked around, where was the other-

“ _Luke, to your left!”_ Anneli shouted and she spun to see that the last alien had climbed onto the roof with him. Unbridled fury in it’s eyes, it fired and he leapt to the right. But he was too slow as one of the blasts slammed into his upper right chest and flung him to the ground.

Ears ringing, he heard a roar in the distance and hoped it was the alien falling to it’s death. He forced himself up and against one of the roof domes and took several quick breaths. He looked down at his armor and let out a sigh of relief. He was alive, thankfully, though his armor was shot to hell. A large black scorch mark indicated where it had absorbed the shot. And based off how cracked and battered the armor was, he couldn’t take another one.

_“Luke! Status!”_ Anius called up to him.

“I’m alive!” He groaned. “The armor took the blast.” He noticed that the shooting had stopped and he forced himself to stand and looked down. The squad was still on the ground, looking at the corpses, ready for more action. Anius looked up at him.

“Do you see anything?” He called.

Luke looked around the rooftops and looked back at Anius. “Nothing. But they could be hiding.”

“Guys,” Marten called hesitantly, pointing behind them. “We have another issue.”

Luke looked back to see around thirty soldiers in military gear lines up behind them, guns raised. Damn it. They hadn’t been fast enough. One of the leaders started calling out in Arabic and Marten shouted something back, putting his hands out in a placating gesture.

“Reposition,” Anius ordered softly as they moved to face their new potential enemies. Keeping their weapons down, they subtly moved into good defensible conditions behind walls and corners.

_“Don’t provoke them,”_ Van Doorn reminded them.

“What are they saying,” Anius muttered to Marten.

“They’re demanding to know who we are,” he answered back. “As well as demanding our surrender.” The Saudi leader shouted something over to them. “What should I tell them?” Marten asked urgently as the armed Saudis moved forward.

“That we’re investigating alien activity here and that we’ll leave.” He answered quickly. Marten shouted back at them. The Saudi leader didn’t seem to have a change in attitude and yelled back.

“They’re still demanding we surrender,” Marten translated. “And that they will kill us if we refuse.”

“Cute,” Anius muttered. “Tell them we’re going to leave now. We’re not going to get in their way. Then everyone back up.”

Marten complied and Luke leapt down to the ground and joined the rest of the squad in backing up.

In response, the Saudi leader raised his hand and shouted a command. Automatic gunfire blasted in their direction as the Saudi soldiers opened fire.

“Scatter!” Anius ordered. “Initiate the Thanatos Contingency!”

“Acknowledged!” They all shouted in confirmation. Anius raised his rifle and fired a sustained beam at the soldiers, starting from the left and moving right. The beam tore through their clothes like butter and six soldiers fell down in pieces.

That was something the soldiers had apparently not expected judging from the screams and shouts of surprise. More soldiers fell as the lasers from the squad sliced and burned the unprotected soldiers. “We can’t let any of them live.” Anius said grimly as he shot another one. “We can’t have them reporting back.”

As much as Luke disliked it, he knew it was true. The last thing XCOM needed was Saudi Arabia spreading stories about how some military unit killed some of their soldiers, even if they didn’t know who did it, the Council would probably make the connection and cause problems for the Commander. Not something any of them wanted

The squad advanced fearlessly as the bullets mostly bounced off their armor. They still could probably pierce joints and less armored spots, but most bullets were simply deflected. Their apparent invincibility was making the soldiers more and more uneasy judging from the shouts and sudden retreats

Anius motioned forward. “After them!”

It was an interesting sensation, Luke mused as he ran forward. It was different having someone fire a weapon on you that virtually did nothing. The Saudi soldier shooting frantically at him was growing more and more terrified the closer he got, bullets bouncing off him like rubber. Luke burned a hole in his head, merciful as deaths went.

He watched Anneli charge forward and grab one of the soldiers and forced him to act as a human shield, keeping her forearm locked around his throat as she advanced. Once she’d killed the soldiers near her, she snapped his neck and tossed the useless corpse to the ground.  The rest of the soldiers were fully retreating now, yelling in terror as their comrades were dismembered and eviscerated one by one.

Something caught his eye and he glanced up and nearly had a heart attack. Floating just behind the main Saudi force were two floating disks. “Get into cover!” He screamed as he dived behind a building. “Watch for the disks!”

Peeking around the corner, he watched the disks transform into the killing machines he’d seen in Hamburg. The Saudi forces were in complete disarray and began firing wildly at the machines. It did nothing to stop the disks from mowing them down. More screams filled the air as the disks annihilated any surviving Saudi forces.

Afif slid into cover beside him, panting heavily as he took a quick rest. “Those aliens might be doing us a favor,” he muttered as he took aim at the disk. “There’s nowhere for them to run now.”

The rest of the squad aimed their weapons at the disks and fired. The red beams tore into the mechanical aliens and sliced through vital components. One disk exploded on the spot and the other retracted back into a disk.

_“Heads up,”_ Van Doorn said urgently. _“We’re detecting signatures behind you.”_

Luke barely had time to acknowledge that before he heard another electrical whirling noise. But it wasn’t coming from the remaining disk. It was coming from behind. Heart pounding he looked behind him to see three more of the disks flying towards them. “They’re behind us!” He shouted and fired distracting shots at the machines, leaving nothing but black smudges on their pristine armor.

The disk hovering over the dead Saudi army transformed again, although it was leaking an orange fluid. It’s guns turned toward Anneli who was taking cover behind a ruined building. Golden rounds shot from barrels with a sizzling sound and ground-shaking thud as they tore into the building she was hiding behind.

Luke raised his weapon and fired a sustained beam into the disk. It sizzled and the machine sparked. Then it slowly fell from the sky and crashed onto the ground with a loud thud.

That taken care of, he looked back to see the disks had transformed and were about ready to fire. Most everyone had adjusted to the flank except for Anneli who was pinned between decrepit buildings.

“Fire!” Anius shouted and more lasers filled the sky, but only a few even hit the disks, and those that did mostly just hit the chrome armor. This time the disks returned fire and everyone hunkered behind cover as the rounds tore into it. He heard Anneli scream in pain and looked over to see that she’d somehow managed to not die, but blood flowed from her leg and one of the disks was still aiming directly at her.

He _could_ get to her and help her out. The timing would have to be perfect, else one or both of them would die. Not enough time to consider. “Covering fire!” He called out. Afif nodded and began shooting the disks to draw their attention. He dashed toward the limping woman and looked up at the disk.

Without hesitating he pushed her to the ground and the disk fired. He didn’t so much feel the rounds tear through him as he felt functions in his body stop working. His left arm refused to work and everything suddenly became very far away. Sounds faded in and out, and he noted with interest one of the disks explode somewhere seemingly very far away…

He felt himself take a step back. Still standing, as his heart thudded in his chest, pumping blood that would he would bleed out. He knew he was dying, he knew he would fall down soon, but he was going to take that thing with him.

With every last ounce of willpower, he focused on the offending disk staring him down and raised his SMG. It’s barrels flashed with golden light and he felt a round puncture a new hole his leg. All the others miraculously missed.

One shot.

He fired and observed the red beam go into the disk. He kept the beam sustained, even as the disk began to retract back into it’s impenetrable shell. He could hear people shouting his name as he fell to the ground, all sounds fading. Hopefully he’d done enough for them to finish it off.

His vision blurred, his breath came in short bursts as he felt his lungs become heavier and his bodily shutdown didn’t stop thoughts flying in and out like insects. Really, the only thing that stayed consistent was that he wished he’d had that talk with Mira sooner. He actually chuckled at that thought, as blood filled his mouth. Mira would probably shake her head in disapproval at his heroics.

Still, there were worse ways to go out.

The last thing he felt was something like a cool mist wash over him. But that was probably just his imagination.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Empty Throne

_Personnel:_

Giant 1 _(Squad Overseer)_ : Specialist Anius Creed

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 12

Giant 2: Specialist Luke Warner

            **Status:** Gravely Wounded (Estimated 20 Days)

**Kills:** 5

Giant 3: Specialist Afif Lim

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 7

Giant 4: Specialist Marten El-Amin

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:**  6

Giant 5: Private Anneli Reinhard

            **Status:** Wounded (Estimated 7 Days)

**Kills:** 8

Giant 6: Private Augustine Ingen

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 5

 

Mission Director: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn

Pilot: Jason Olgard – Call sign: “Big Sky”

 

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-4x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-9x Alien Soldier Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-5x Alien Disk Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-24x Alien Weapon Fragments

-8x Alien Alloys

-4x Alien Abduction Canisters

****

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	29. Objective: Retaliation

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

“He shouldn’t have lived,” Abby stated flatly as she took a sip of her water.

Patricia snorted in derision. She was always miffed when people said that, since they were clearly wrong. Otherwise it wouldn’t have happened. “I suppose Luke disagreed.” She responded, shrugging.

Abby gazed at her wearily, exhaustion in her face and eyes. “You didn’t see the body when it was brought in. I thought they were bringing him in for an autopsy at first.”

“So how bad was it?” Patricia asked as she ate one of the rolls she’d gotten.

“Bad,” Abby answered unhelpfully. “Multiple puncture wounds in his lungs, chest and heart. Also one in his leg, though that wasn’t an issue. His blood loss was catastrophic and his lungs had essentially collapsed.”

“Bad.” Patricia agreed. She was actually impressed that he was still alive based on that list of wounds. “Good thing Creed brought that med-kit.”

“Good thing they cleaned up so quickly after he was shot,” Abby corrected wearily. “If they’d brought him back even a half-hour later, he would have died, med-kit or no.”

“So…” Patricia continued after a pause. “How is he now?”

“I’m keeping him in an induced coma for now,” Abby explained, resting her arms on the table. “He’ll live…but I’m not sure if there’ll be permanent damage or not, and if so, to what extent. He needs to have all his energy focused on healing for a few days, then I’ll let him wake up.”

“How bad could it be?” Patricia asked.

“Worst case?” Abby answered worriedly, her eyes filled with exhaustion. “The amount of blood he lost could lead to mental deficiencies. He’ll be more prone to heart attacks and could suffer breathing problems. I don’t think he’ll lose any functionality in his limbs, but it’s possible he loses feeling instead.”

“Bad.” Patricia repeated grimly, looking down at her plate.

“That’s a worst case scenario, though,” Abby reminded her, perking up slightly. “It probably won’t be that bad.”

“I hope you’re right,” Patricia agreed. “At that point I probably would have just wished they’d just killed me.”

Abby shrugged. “Luke doesn’t strike me as the type to really complain about that. He’d likely just shrug and move on.”

Patricia nodded in agreement thinking back to some of their conversations. “Probably. It’s one of his admirable traits.”

Abby raised an eyebrow. “He has unadmirable ones?”

She took a drink. “He can be stubborn.”

“That’s probably why he’s alive,” Abby gave a faint smile. “It certainly isn’t because his wounds were trivial.”

“Are you keeping him in one of those rooms I was in?” Patricia asked, finishing up her roll.

“No,” Abby shook her head. “I’ve got him in one of the ICUs. He needs to be on life support at least for now.”

“Ah,” Patricia nodded. “I suppose that means no visitors?”

“Not into the actual room,” Abby clarified, taking a sip of her drink. “But that hasn’t stopped Mira from coming in to check on him.”

Patricia raised an eyebrow. _Hmm_. “ _Mira_ came to check on him?”

“Trust me, I was surprised,” Abby agreed, shaking her head for emphasis. “I didn’t know they knew each other well.”

Patricia frowned for a second, then smiled. “You clearly haven’t been paying much attention,” she told her amused. “They’ve been talking quite a bit recently.”

Abby looked at her with interest. “Really? Huh. Didn’t really expect that,” she shrugged. “Well, good for them, I guess. Maybe Mira will lighten up if she managed to make a friend.”

“That will probably be contingent on how well Luke recovers,” Patricia speculated. “In any event, I think I’ll go see how he’s doing as well.”

“Just don’t go in the room.” Abby warned her as she got up to leave.

“Don’t worry,” Patricia assured her. “I won’t do anything to make it worse.”

***

_The Citadel, Medical Ward_

Patricia waved her hand absentmindedly as she approached the door which slid open as the motion sensors detected her. No one was in the small waiting room, so she waited a few seconds. When it was clear no one was coming, she shrugged and kept walking into the hallway towards the actual wards. She looked up at the signs and found the one marked _“Intensive Care Units”_ and headed that way.

The hallway was utterly silent, barring the faint beeps and hissings of automated machines. She didn’t particularly like it. Medical wards were downright creepy when seemingly abandoned. She supposed it was a good thing since it indicated that they weren’t needed as much. Didn’t make her any less uneasy, regardless of how irrational it really was.

As she turned the hallway the walls to her left gave way to large glass windows with a door beside them. Inside the rooms were the ICU machines and virtually nothing else. The rooms themselves were fairly small, more like cubicles, but since the people in them were usually unconscious, that probably wasn’t a big issue.

She paused when she saw Mira standing in front of another ICU room. The Kidon operative was wearing her customary gear and standing stoically into the room, although there was one major difference than usual. The hood that normally concealed her face was down.

From the side, she almost looked like a normal woman. Her cropped raven hair obscured the side of her face and the light gave the illusion of her skin being slightly redder than usual. Still, to her knowledge, Mira had only removed her hood once, and that was just to make a point. Not to mention she’d put it back up a few seconds later.

She walked slowly up to her, so as not to startle her. Actually, knowing Mira, she’d probably known she was here the moment she turned the corner. Mira didn’t acknowledged her regardless and Patricia stopped beside her and turned to look into the room.

Abby hadn’t exaggerated. Tubes and wires were hooked into Luke’s body, bandages and cases were on his chest and leg. Some sort of breathing apparatus was also attached to his mouth. It looked incredibly uncomfortable. The machines beside him blinked methodically as his chest rose and fall.

“You spoke with Abby?” Patricia asked, not looking over.

“Yes,” Mira answered, neutrally as ever. “He’ll live.”

Patricia pursed her lips. “There may be complications.”

“Unlikely,” Mira stated. “He’ll recover fully.” The sheer certainty with which she said it almost convinced her.

“You really think so?” Patricia asked, looking over at her.

“He’s stronger than you think.” She answered, still looking into the room. “He will.”

There was silence for a few moments. “I’m somewhat surprised to see you here.” Patricia finally said. “You didn’t strike me as the type to be overly sentimental.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mira look up at her and she returned her piercing gaze. She suppressed a shudder looking at her skinless face, it was worse than she remembered. It honestly reminded her of a corpse rather than a living person. Her eyes were the only part of it that retained any semblance of life. The rest was a dead mockery.

“Tell me,” Mira asked holding her gaze. “Do I look sentimental to you?”

“Not expressively, no,” Patricia maintained eye contact, not convinced she was hiding her facial expressions overly well. “But you are here regardless.”

Mira’s ruined lips curled into a mockery of a smile as she looked away. “So I am. I wanted to see him. Is that hard to understand?”

Patricia sighed and looked back into the room. “I suppose not. But it’s abnormal for you.”

Mira didn’t respond to that and they listened to the beeping of machines for a few minutes longer. “I make you uncomfortable, don’t I?” She finally asked, looking back at her.

Patricia contemplated her response. Mira wasn’t stupid and she’d probably respond better to honestly than an obvious lie. And Patricia didn’t do obvious lies very well to begin with. She shrugged. “Yes. I’d be more surprised if someone wasn’t, to be honest.”

“So would I,” Mira mused, looking back at Luke. “I’m under no illusions of how I look. People tend be uncomfortable around me. Once it got to the point where it became a hindrance to effectively work with others. That’s why I started wearing the hood, not a perfect solution, but a decent one.”

“Considerate,” Patricia acknowledged. “I suppose it’s made some conversations less awkward.”

“Without a doubt,” Mira agreed. “It’s an effective tool. Human fears and psychology are fairly easy to predict. People who wouldn’t normally talk suddenly became very chatty when someone who looks dead comes to speak with them.”

Leave it to Mira to turn a horrific disfigurement into an advantage. It was slightly amusing to picture some criminal scared witless by her walking into the room. “Does it hurt?” She asked, hoping it wasn’t too prying a question. But she was curious and Mira seemed surprisingly chatty at the moment.

“All the time,” she answered tonelessly. “Every movement causes pain. The first few days I wanted to die. Just being exposed to the air was like having acid eat into you.” She shrugged. “But now I’ve gotten used to it. Speaking and small facial movements almost feel numb. But the pain never goes away completely.”

Patricia didn’t really know how to answer that. It sounded painful beyond belief. She had a high pain tolerance, but couldn’t really imagine actually living with continuous pain every day of her life. “Not many people could live with that,” she finally said slowly. “The fact that you are says a lot. Perhaps Luke isn’t entirely wrong about you.”

Mira’s tone now had small inflections of amusement. “I suppose I’ll take what I can. It was higher than the last time we spoke.” She paused for a few minutes. Patricia got the impression she was preparing to ask something else. “You spoke with him before the mission yes?”

Patricia nodded. “I did.”

“What did you tell him?” She questioned, looking up at her.

“I suppose you’re asking for a reason?” Patricia countered, wanting to know what she was getting at before replying.

“No, I’m asking because those words just randomly came out of my mouth,” Mira answered in the same tone, her sarcasm briefly throwing her off. “Yes, I’m asking for a reason. Luke mentioned ‘talking’ before he left, and he seemed…off.”

“Oh, I didn’t say much,” Patricia answered, keeping her voice as nonchalant as possible. “Just that you two should probably talk.”

Mira pursed her lips and Patricia sighed. “Stop pretending. You’re interested in him and anyone even half-paying attention could see it.”

“That is none of your business.” Mira snapped, her tone dangerously cold.

Patricia raised her hands in appeasement. “Very true. But if my conversation was any indication, it probably goes both ways.”

Mira was silent. “Now, you could keep avoiding this,” Patricia continued. “However, I doubt it’s going to go away and if you wait too long it might be too late. Don’t think I didn’t notice you glaring at that KSK operative talking with him.”

“You should probably leave before I punch you.” Mira warned icily.

Patricia cracked a smile. “I’ll do that. Goodbye, Mira. Don’t worry about Luke, especially if he’s as tough as you say.” With that she backed away and left the woman alone, standing in front of his room like a guardian angel of sorts.

Or a demon.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

“How essential do you think it will be?”

Zhang paused before answering. “That depends on how essential you believe this transponder could be.”

The Commander rested his chin on his fist. That alien transponder Zhang had stolen from the Triad was currently sitting dormant with everything that had been happening and Zhang believed that they could extract something useful from it now. Which was true, literally anything taken would be useful…the question was _how_ useful.

“How long do you estimate it will take with what you have now?” He asked to get an idea.

Zhang pursed his lips. “I have only one agent who could even begin to make sense of the alien code. She’s one of the best hackers I know, but this is uncharted territory even for the best. Working alone, a month at least, probably two.”

“And whatever’s inside could be time-sensitive.” The Commander finished grimly. “That’s too long.”

“I need an expert cryptologist at least,” Zhang suggested. “And probably another expert programmer. Three should be able to crack in much sooner.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the Commander promised. “Do you have any particular recommendations?”

Zhang pulled out his tablet and began tapping on it. “Yes. I have potential recruits in America, Israel and Mexico. I’m sure you could find others just as skilled.”

The Commander crossed his arms. “How are the Israeli agents assimilating?”

“Well enough,” Zhang shrugged. “They follow orders well and are excellent at their jobs.”

“Are you certain of their loyalty?” The Commander pressed.

“That isn’t an easy question to answer,” Zhang answered slowly, looking up with a frown. “For the moment yes. But I’m not convinced that they would hold to that same loyalty if the Prime Minister gave them an order.”

“And that is why I’m wary of recruiting more Israelis into XCOM Intelligence,” the Commander finished wearily. “I don’t want us relying on one country for most of our espionage operatives. It’s too much of a security risk.”

“Agreed,” Zhang nodded. “However, until we make more permanent alliances with countries, Israel is our best option for expert operatives.”

“Speaking of Israel,” the Commander interjected. “You have anything new from your operative inside?”

“Nothing obvious,” Zhang answered, looking down on his tablet. “But based on some rather interesting details he found, it seems Israel may be preparing to form it’s own alien fighting force.” He handed the tablet to the Commander.

The Commander raised an eyebrow as he read. “The Crusader Division. Interesting.”

“People have been moved from all across the Israeli Military and Mossad,” Zhang recalled as he read. “And all of them were told they were being transferred to that division. A division that technically doesn’t exist yet.”

“You trust your source?” The Commander asked him, looking up.

“I trust him to value his own life,” Zhang corrected wryly. “And the Triad certainly wouldn’t treat him well if they were to learn his location.”

The Commander nodded. “And has the Triad moved on since you left?”

“They’ve stayed quiet for now,” Zhang informed him with a frown. “Which means their either consolidating their forces to stay low, or planning something big.”

“Any ideas on which one?” The Commander inquired curiously.

“By now they’ll have appointed my replacement,” Zhang speculated slowly. “This alien invasion creates chaos and opportunity. Laying low wouldn’t make sense. They’re planning something,” Zhang grimaced. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what.”

“Do you think they’ll come after us to get you?” The Commander asked.

Zhang shook his head. “I highly doubt that they know XCOM exists, and even if they do, they won’t make a move. Even the Triad know better than to openly move against any arm of the United Nations. _Especially_ since they know that I would be able to counter them if they did.”

“You did take something pretty valuable from them,” the Commander reminded him. “It might be a matter of pride.”

“I have no doubt they would skin me and hang my corpse as an example,” Zhang stated firmly. “But they can’t and they know it. Trying to get revenge on me would be a pointless waste of time and resources. And the Triad doesn’t do either unless it suits their interests.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” the Commander said, picking his tablet up. “I would rather we _not_ add another name to our list of enemies.”

“Which is potentially everyone.” Zhang stated wryly.

“Everyone to varying degrees,” the Commander amended. “I don’t have anyone who would be considered a completely trustworthy ally.”

“Can that be said for anyone?” Zhang asked, slightly amused.

“Not with an organization like XCOM,” the Commander admitted. “Or with me for that matter.” The Commander handed his tablet to Zhang. “Veering off this train of thought, there’s something I’ve been drafting. I figured it appropriate with our enemies and possible security risks.”

Zhang took the tablet and briefly scanned. His eyebrow rose. “Atlas.”

“The overarching protocol,” the Commander corrected. “Within it will be subsections for each division. Yours, for example.”

Zhang looked up. “I presume this supersedes the Hestia Contingency?”

“I felt that the contingency as it was written was too inflexible,” the Commander explained with a wave of his hand. “It dealt well with the military scenario, and that will be my particular contribution to the Atlas Protocol. But I’m not an expert in your division, or Engineering and Research for that matter. The specific protocols should be drawn up by those in charge of those divisions. The ones who know their strengths, weaknesses, and how to best counter them.”

“A good idea.” Zhang agreed with a nod as he tapped on the tablet. “I’ll begin soon.”

“I’ll bring the rest of the Internal Council up to speed as well,” the Commander continued. “This should ideally be completed as soon as possible. We can’t afford to be caught unprepared.”

“You think that is a real possibility?” Zhang asked, actually sounding slightly concerned.

The Commander looked down. “No idea. But I’m not taking chances, not with so much at stake. I’ve also accelerated preparations for the Hephaestus Contingency as well.”

“You’ve found a suitable location?” Zhang questioned.

“See for yourself.” The Commander handed him a file which he took. “I don’t want this spreading. Look these over and tell me which one would fall into line the easiest.”

Zhang inclined his head. “It will be done.”

“One more thing,” the Commander raised a finger. “Have you finished your reconnaissance?”

“Yes.” Zhang pulled out a folded sheet of paper and handed it to the Commander. On it were written a list of names as well as addresses beside them.

“Well done,” he complimented, satisfied. “This will hopefully keep the Council in line for now.”

The intercom beeped suddenly and the Commander pressed the answer button. “Bradford?”

_“Commander, you need to get down here.”_ Bradford answered urgently.

“What is it?” the Commander demanded.

_“We’ve got a UFO on our scanners. A big one.”_

“On my way.” The Commander assured him and ended the call.

“He sounded worried.” Zhang commented.

“Which means it’s probably not good,” the Commander added grimly. “Come on. Let’s see what’s going on.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Mission Control_

Zhang to his right, the Commander strode into the bustling Mission Control. Bradford practically ran over to him. “Commander!”

“Bradford, what’s the situation?” He demanded.

“See for yourself,” Bradford told him worriedly as he pointed toward the hologlobe which was now showing a new type of alien ship. It appeared rectangular and less alien looking than the previous UFOs.

“What is it?” The Commander asked, turning to face him. “It’s not like the others.”

“If I had to guess,” Bradford answered. “I’d say this was a supply transport of some kind based on the shape and size.”

“And if so,” the Commander continued, following his train of thought. “Downing it might cripple their supply network.”

“We don’t know for sure.” Zhang reminded him.

“Have you deployed the Ravens?” the Commander asked Bradford.

“No,” Bradford shook his head. “We have no idea on this UFOs capabilities. I felt the call should be yours.”

The Commander nodded. “Send up four Ravens. That should be sufficient.”

“Yes, Commander.” Bradford told him and walked off a short distance, talking into his headset.

“Taking that thing out would certainly send a message to the aliens.” Zhang mused as he looked at the holographic recreations. “Regardless of its purpose, anything that large has to be at least a little important.”

“No doubt,” the Commander agreed. “And would probably hold quite a few soldiers as well.”

“Probably enough to overrun a six-man squad.” Zhang realized grimly.

The Commander turned to him with a slight smile. “Then we’ll use more than six soldiers.”

“Ravens are in the air!” Bradford called out, and gestured at the hologlobe. “Display!”

The hologlobe changed and showed four green holographic Ravens flying towards a red rectangle. At the rate they were heading it would probably be five or ten minutes. He looked toward where the UFO was and where it would probably be when the Ravens arrived. Somewhere around Idaho was where it would land if they shot it down.

_“This is Raven One to Citadel Command,”_ The pilot told them a few minutes later. _“We’re approaching the UFO now.”_

“Fire at will,” Bradford ordered. “Target the engines and any vital components you see.”

_“Copy that, Raven Two, you’re with me. Three and Four, take opposite side.”_

_“Acknowledged, Raven One,”_ Raven Four answered.

“Onscreen!” Bradford ordered the analysts and the 3D image of the UFO reappeared with the Ravens approaching from behind.

_“Firing!”_ Raven One yelled and the Ravens unleashed a salvo of missiles onto the massive UFO, seemingly doing no damage. And that was the first real display of how much larger the UFO actually was. The little green Ravens seemed like insignificant flies compared to the massive vehicle.

_“They know we’re here!”_ Raven Three yelled as bolts of plasma started shooting from turrets on the UFO.

_“Evasive action!”_ Raven One ordered and all the pilots scattered and divided up the hostile fire.

_“Raven Two, circle around and destroy this turret!”_ Raven Three ordered as he kept dodging the perilously close plasma fire.

_“Will do,_ ” Raven Two acknowledged. _“Coming around.”_ The Raven pulled a sharp turn and let loose a salvo towards the turret which exploded with a pixilated burst. Raven Two let out a whoop. _“Got it!”_

_“Returning to targeting the engines,”_ Raven Three said as he pulled away and pulled up to go in for another run.

_“Raven Two,”_ Raven One ordered. _“Repeat that maneuver for the rest of the turrets.”_

_“Copy that!”_ Raven Two zoomed around the ship as more turrets started focusing on it. He let loose another salvo and another turret exploded.

_“Firing!”_ Raven Three informed and fired another round of missiles which struck something vital if the UFO suddenly shuddering was any indication.

_“I’m taking fire!”_ Raven Four yelled as three turrets focused on her.

_“Moving to assist!”_ Raven One acknowledged urgently and pulled a sharp turn towards the direction of the turrets.

_“Look out!”_ Raven Two yelled as Raven One flew directly into the crossfire of two additional turrets. The Raven took four shots in quick succession and began falling from the sky.

_“Eject! Eject!”_ Raven Three yelled as he pulled up for another shot at the engines. Whether the pilot heard him or not, it didn’t matter as the Raven exploded a few seconds later.

Raven Three unleashed another volley of missiles which again struck the engines or something just as vital as the UFO started very slowly dipping.

_“There’s too many!”_ Raven Two yelled in a panic as plasma bolts flew around them. _“We can’t hold out much longer.”_

“Abandon the turrets,” the Commander ordered. “Target the engines and bring the ship down.”

_“Yes, Commander!”_ The two Ravens taking all the fire immediately went into a steep dive to then pull up under the UFO. Both unleashed volleys of missiles even as plasma fire rained down on them.

_“I’m hit!”_ Raven Four yelled as her plane was hit in the wing. _“Losing control-“_ She was abruptly cut off as her Raven slammed into the bottom of the UFO with a large pixilated explosion. Ironically, that seemed to be the finishing blow as the entire UFO shuddered.

“Should we pull back?” Bradford asked urgently. “We’re losing pilots fast.”

“No,” The Commander stated. “Watch.”

The UFO was unquestionably losing altitude now. One more volley should put it down for good. “Raven Two, draw fire,” The Commander ordered. “Raven Three, do one more round then both of you pull back.”

_“Copy, Commander!”_ They acknowledged and everyone watched tensely as the massive bolts barely missed the small jet while Raven Three went under for another round.

_“Firing!”_ He shouted and the final salvo of missiles apparently caused some sort of chain reaction as the UFO went from a slow dip to a full crash.

“Pull back!” The Commander ordered and the two pilots easily avoided the turret fire from the falling ship and headed back.

_“This is Raven Two, we’re clear and heading back to the Citadel.”_

“Copy, Raven Two,” the Commander acknowledged. “Good work.”

Bradford let out a breath. “That could have gone better.”

“It was worth it,” the Commander answered with a grim smile. “Now we need to finish the job. This is our chance to send a clear message to the aliens.”

“I take it this won’t just involve sending a squad down?” Bradford asked wearily.

“We need a show of force, for both the soldier and the aliens,” the Commander said firmly. “Prepare two skyrangers. That should be sufficient to take the ship.”

“I’ll do that,” Bradford promised. “But if this goes wrong…”

“It won’t go wrong,” the Commander assured him, rolling his shoulders. “I’m going down as well.”

Bradford’s head shot up in surprise. “You? But-“

The Commander raised a hand to cut him off. “This is one mission I need to be on to effectively lead. And it’s time the soldiers see me fighting alongside them.”

“This should at least be talked about,” Bradford insisted. “If you-“

“This isn’t up for debate,” the Commander interrupted, steel creeping in his voice. “If you’re that concerned about my safety, do your job and make sure I don’t die.”

Bradford looked helplessly at Zhang. “Tell me you don’t think this is a good idea?”

“It has merit,” Zhang shrugged. “You underestimate how effective it will be for morale and loyalty to see the Commander himself take the field as well.”

Bradford scowled. “Let me go on record saying this is a bad idea.”

“Duly noted,” the Commander acknowledged. “Get the skyrangers ready, I have a mission to prepare for.” 

“Yes, sir,” a resigned Bradford acknowledged wearily. “And good luck, Commander.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

He pulled on his gauntlets and flexed his hands once they were snug. The armor that had been designed for him was slightly bulkier and offered more protection than the regular armor. He didn’t approve getting special treatment, but accepted that he would have to make concessions somewhere.

He honestly preferred the black armor he’d worn during his sniper masquerade, mostly because it was light enough to move pretty quickly. Now he felt more like he was in an exoskeleton than wearing additional protection. Well, there were pros and cons to both.

And if he was going to be slower, he was going to make up for that in damage output. He grabbed a regular laser rifle and attached it to the designated hook on his back, then grabbed his sniper rifle as he primary weapon. The pistol was still strapped to his leg, but that was inconsequential compared to what he wielded now.

Finally, he picked up his helmet and donned it with a click. The HUD initialized and the regular icons and images appeared as normal. He looked into the mirror in his room. Admittedly, the bulkier armor did make him an imposing figure and, combined with the silver sheen of the paint and XCOM insignia on his collar, clearly designated him as the person in command.

Satisfied, he turned away and paused when he heard the door hiss open, then smiled. He had a good idea of who it was. There was a hiss as the seals were broken when he removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm.

As he suspected, Vahlen was waiting outside, she looked concerned, though to anyone else it would just look like she was irritated. Catching sight of him, she blinked and crossed her arms as he walked up.

“Bradford told me you’re going down there.” She greeted flatly without ceremony.

“I hope you aren’t going to try to talk me out of it as well.” He answered with a small smile.

She sighed. “Knowing you, it would be a waste of time and effort. However,” she turned her piercing gaze to him. “That doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“Trust me, Moira,” he assured her seriously. “You don’t have to worry. This isn’t my first combat op.”

“But if you’re really set on this shouldn’t you…I don’t know,” Vahlen waved her arm. “Go down on some easier mission? Not when we’ve downed the biggest UFO we’ve encountered.”

Oh right. She didn’t know he’d clandestinely been going on missions. Hmm. “I have practice,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t press _too_ hard. “I know what to do. Remember my history.”

She paused and narrowed her eyes. Of course she’d picked up on it, she was just as smart as he was. “ _Practice_ ,” she repeated slowly, her worry slowly giving way to suspicion. “What does _that_ mean exactly?”

Unfortunate, but there wasn’t much he could do and he didn’t want to lie to her. “I may or may not have gone on some of the more… _easier_ …missions as you put it. Without telling anyone.”

She face palmed, and that looked so odd on her he almost chuckled. “I would tell you how much of an idiot you are,” she said wearily. “But I’m sure you know that.”

“Bradford seemed to agree,” the Commander nodded. “So as much as I appreciate your concern, I would prefer not to hear about how I’m too valuable to be risking my life _again_.”

Vahlen sighed. “I’ll spare you that. But I do have some personal investment in wanting you back alive.”

The Commander smiled. “I also have a personal investment in helping you fulfill that want,” he placed a gauntleted hand on her shoulder, growing more serious. “Trust me, Moira. I’m not going to die today.”

She put her hand over his. “You do that.” She answered softly then stepped back. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

He placed his helmet back on with a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you soon.” Leaving her in his office, he walked out into the hallway. As he walked, the staff he passed all paused and gave his salute to him. He honestly felt it was unnecessary but didn’t have time to really deal with it.

It didn’t take him long to reach the hanger where all the soldiers he assembled were already there. Unlike how they normally just milled around until the pilot showed up, they stood in two rows in a strict military posture. The pilots stood off to the side and also followed suit.

“At ease,” he told them, stopping in front of them. He pointed to the pilots. “Prepare the skyrangers.”

They both saluted. “Yes, Commander!” And dashed off toward the skyrangers. The Commander turned his attention to the soldiers in front of him.

“We’ve downed a UFO,” he told them as he began pacing. “Far larger than any before. We believe it’s a transport of some kind, which means this is an opportunity to deal a blow to their supply lines.”

He stopped momentarily. “But this is also where we send a message to the aliens that we will not be beaten. This is retaliation for every attack on our planet and every loss we’ve suffered. Today we will avenge the fallen and give the aliens reason to fear us!”

As one the soldiers gave his salute, right fist over chest. He nodded in approval. “Gertrude, Alba, Webb, Vauner and Rodriguez, with me.” He ordered as he walked toward one of the skyrangers. “Everyone else load up!”

“Yes, Commander!” They shouted and marched into the skyranger. Everyone got seated quickly and the ramps closed and the hum of the engines soon filled the room.

_“This is Fallen Sky, reporting in. Ready to life off on your order, Commander.”_

_“This is Burning Sky. I’m ready and waiting.”_

“You are cleared,” the Commander answered. “Take us there.”

With a brief jolt the skyranger lifted off and the Commander felt the turbulence build as the vehicle shot off towards the crash site.

“Listen up,” the Commander said, leaning forward, “The aliens are going to throw everything they have at us. We’re going to deploy just outside the UFO and secure the outside before continuing.”

“How large is the expected force?” Mira asked, sitting across from him.

“Unknown,” the Commander stated. “Central, do you have an estimate?”

_“We got lucky today,”_ Bradford answered. _“We’ve got satellite coverage over the area. Sending to you now. Based on the alien activity at the moment, we’re estimating at least thirty aliens.”_

In the corner of his HUD, a feed from the satellite showed the alien crash site. Outside the apparent entrance, small figures were swarming around it and appeared to be setting up defenses of some kind. “Can you magnify?” The Commander asked.

_“Will do.”_ Bradford answered and the feed zoomed in and the Commander got a good look at the forces arrayed against them. The majority of the aliens were the green armored ones with some sectoids behind them. There were also some thin men in the mix, who appeared to be taking positions behind the front line. All in all, he counted fifteen aliens ready.

“Everyone receiving?” The Commander asked the soldiers, who all nodded.

“There’s quite a few,” Carmelita commented, flipping her blade in her hand. “What’s the plan?”

“The armored aliens are going to have the advantage with their cover,” the Commander answered. “We will negate that first. Trask, Vauner, you take two soldiers each and move to flank. We’ll draw their fire.”

_“Understood.”_ Patricia answered.

“Will do, Commander.” Mira nodded.

“Lulling and I will take out the sectoids and any support they have,” the Commander continued, referring to the KSK operative who also specialized in sniping. “The continuous fire should limit the sectoids from performing too many psionic attacks.”

_“Take a good look,”_ Bradford warned suddenly. _“We’ve got a storm heading that direction, the cloud cover will obstruct any visuals and disrupt our scanners.”_

Ah, fighting in the rain. Difficult conditions were something he always considered a blessing since he adapted to them so easily. Doubly so since the aliens likely wouldn’t be able to adapt nearly as well.

“Understood,” the Commander acknowledged. “We’ll make do on our own.”

He looked around at the soldiers. “I would also expect to encounter outsiders as well deeper in the UFO. Be vigilant and do not move in until we secure the entrance. The rain will obstruct their visibility, take advantage of that.”

“I will take Alba and Webb,” Mira told him. “We’ll take the right side.”

_“And I’ll take the left with Chandler and Friendly,”_ Patricia also informed him.

“Excellent,” the Commander answered. “Is everyone clear?”

“Yes, Commander!” All of them affirmed from both skyrangers.

_“Commander, we’re going to hit some turbulence in a few moments,”_ Burning Sky warned. _“That storm is right over the LZ. We’re coming in hot.”_

“ETA?” The Commander asked.

_“Three minutes.”_

He nodded. “Copy that.” Grasping his sniper rifle firmly, he stood and walked over to skyranger exit ramp. The rest of the soldiers stood as well and took places behind him. Mira stood to his side.

“We’ll peel off as soon as we land,” Mira told him. “Give the order when you want us to strike.”

“Will do,” he responded as the skyranger shook violently. Some of the soldiers grasped the handles above them as the shaking worsened. The Commander could feel the skyranger dipping forward and adjusted his balance to compensate.

_“Thirty seconds!”_ Burning Sky told him.

The Commander looked behind him. “Ready?”

_“Yes, Commander!”_ They shouted. The skyranger shuddered as it landed.

“Wipe them out,” the Commander ordered as the ramp descended. “Today we take no prisoners.” He looked out into the pouring rain and readied his weapon. “Deploy!” He ordered and as one, the soldiers charged into the torrential maelstrom.

* * *

 

Rain whipping around them, the soldiers charged and took cover behind trees and rocks as the fortified aliens began shooting green plasma fire at them. The Commander took a position behind a tree at a slighter higher elevation and noted Patricia and Mira moving around the sides.

“Return fire!” he ordered and red laser beams joined the colorful exchange of energy. The aliens had set up some sort of metal barricades strategically placed in front of the massive transport. The Commander aimed down his sniper rifle and scanned the back of the alien forces. Three sectoids and four thin men.

The plasma fire slammed into a nearby tree. And he looked at in amused. They would have to do better than that. He looked over to see Lulling far to his right, also aiming. “Lulling, you have a target?”

“Yes, Commander,” The German answered. “Though the rain is making it difficult to line up a clear shot.”

“Target the sectoids on my mark!” The Commander ordered, lining up a shot on one of the little gray aliens.

“Mark!” Two scathing beams to red energy cut through the rain and slammed into two of the aliens, killing them instantly. Now realizing that they weren’t safe, the thin men and remaining sectoid scattered to some additional cover. The Commander shot again, but missed this time.

“Keep them pinned.” The Commander ordered Lulling. “They’re too far back to assist now.”

“Will do.” He acknowledged and the Commander looked to see how the others were doing.

Scorch marks littered the trees around the XCOM soldiers and alien barricades, but there were no casualties on either side. The Commander noticed two of the aliens clustered behind one barricade. He switched to his laser rifle. “Wong! Grenade on the two clustered ones!”

The Jinan operative gave him a thumbs up and pulled out one of his AP grenades. “Grenade out!” He yelled.

“Prepare for them to scatter!” The Commander called out as it flew through the air. A small explosion detonated by the two aliens who attempted to run in opposite directions. One was thrown to the ground from the sheer force and the other’s armor absorbed most of the shrapnel.

Three laser bursts from Abby, the Commander and Gorman shot at the aliens. The Commander and Abby claimed the one still mostly alive while Gorman finished off the one on the ground.

“Nice shot!” The Commander called out.

“I’m going to need to reload!” Lulling called out.

“I’ll cover them.” The Commander assured him as he switched back to his sniper rifle and settled his sights on the five pinned aliens. Time to take one out so they didn’t get cocky…

He took a deep breath and entered a state where all sensations ceased. He saw the rain around him but didn’t feel it, he heard the explosions around him but they faded away. His reticule focused squarely on the face of the thin man and just one more inch….

There.

He fired and the alien fell to the ground, dead, and toxic gas rose from the corpse. “One down.” He muttered.

_“Commander, my team is in position and ready to engage.”_ Patricia informed him. _“We have clear shots on three of the aliens.”_

“Still undetected?” He asked as two plasma shots got uncomfortably close

_“For the moment. That may not last.”_

Good enough. It would actually help Mira when her team in in position. When the aliens realized they were being flanked they would retreat…

Right into Mira’s team.

“Vauner,” he called out. “Patricia is about to strike. Aliens will probably be coming to your location.”

_“Acknowledged and understood. They will die.”_

“Excellent,” he answered. “Patricia, now!”

_“With pleasure.”_ Three lasers shot from the left and struck the heads of three unsuspecting aliens. The three remaining green armored aliens paused and tried to frantically scramble away as Patricia, Chandler and Friendly charged up and began taking cover behind the aliens own barricades.

The thin men hissed and also changed position in response to the new attack. Now in range of enemies, they began firing their plasma weapons as well. A shot from Lulling struck a thin man in the back and it collapsed with a scream.

_“We’re pinned down!”_ Patricia called out as plasma fire rained down around her. _“Where the hell are you Mira?”_

_“Grenade out.”_ Mira ordered and the brilliant explosion of a frag grenade hit the clustered green aliens taking cover from two directions and Abby and Wong quickly killed them. Quick laser bursts also came from the right towards the thin men and sectoid.

The Sectoid and thin man fell but the final doppelganger dashed back and let out a loud shriek before she was eviscerated by the combined fire of Patricia and Friendly.

Silence fell over the battlefield, aside from the pattering of rain.

“Secure the front,” the Commander ordered, switching to his laser rifle. “Check and reload before moving forward.” Each soldier took cover behind the alien barricades, the heavier armed ones like Patricia and Mira taking the barricades closest to the entrance of the ship.

The Commander moved forward until he was at the front of the small group of soldiers. The alien transport was massive. Boxes were strewn around the floor of the ship and slightly beyond that were three entrances, each one shielded by the familiar shimmering multicolored force fields. The middle entrance was about half as wide as the ones on the sides.

“Move forward.” He ordered, weapon raised and quickly moved to the next layer of alien barricades. He blinked as the air rippled up ahead. He raised a fist and the soldiers behind him froze.

“What is it?” Patricia muttered, autolaser sweeping the area.

“Something up ahead,” the Commander muttered, raising his rifle at the distorted air. “Enter overwatch, something is cloaked.”

He fired at the distortion and the laser slammed into something, which fell to the ground, sparking. One of the squid-like seekers.

Behind him several soldiers yelled in pain as the cloaked machines appeared and began strangling them. They had smartly targeted the back line.

“Mira, down!” Patricia yelled and the woman threw herself down as Patricia fired above her at a de-cloaked seeker which had appeared over her. Two more of the machines appeared, behind Carmelita and Friendly.

“Behind you!” Friendly yelled at her as the seeker behind him wrapped its tentacles around him. Carmelita looked up and rolled away, just dodging the alien machine grabbing her. A small compartment opened up in it’s ‘mouth’ and glowed green. But it was too late as her laser bored a hole into it and it fell to the ground.

The seekers strangling the back line were mostly dead, the one that remained was flying above trying to dodge the laser fire, but couldn’t outlast the combined power of six soldiers. Mira shot the seeker off Friendly who collapsed to the ground, gasping.

“Check!” The Commander called once all the seekers were dead on the ground. “Everyone alright?”

Eventually, and through some coughing, everyone answered with an affirmation. The Commander turned back to face the entrances and frowned. Whatever was left inside had to be a trap. “They’ll be waiting inside.” He mused.

“Once we go in, they have the advantage,” Mira agreed.

“Advance slowly,” the Commander ordered. “Watch the walls and ceilings, rear soldiers, watch behind us!” Raising his rifle, the Commander walked forward, flanked by Mira and Patricia as they reached the three doors.

Nothing.

“Take positions outside,” the Commander ordered, pointing at the force field edges. “Let’s see what they’re hiding.”

Mira and Patricia motioned several other soldiers to come forward, each side was covered and two soldiers knelt in front of each door, weapons raised. The soldiers not on the entrances were watching behind them, so as not to be surprised.

“The force fields react to touch,” the Commander remembered. “Open them on my mark.”

“Everyone ready?” Patricia called.

Every confirmed. The Commander nodded and reached out to tap the force field in the middle. “Open them.”

The force fields receded like a popped bubble revealing…

Nothing.

The narrow path in front of the Commander was a ramp up and nothing else. The other entrances were likewise empty. They appeared to be simple rooms with odd supports along the sides which eventually had a ramp that led up at the far end.

The Commander noticed that there were also ramps along the side of the ship that appeared to go above and alongside the room. “Mira, Patricia, take three soldiers and go up the ramps. Watch for ambushes.”

Mira and Patricia nodded and the Commander gestured towards the nearest soldiers to him. “Gertrude, Friendly, Alba, you’re with me.”

Mira and Patricia had gathered their teams and were waiting to move forward. “We are ready to proceed.” Mira informed him.

“Advance,” He ordered, raising his weapon as he began walking forward. “ _Slowly_. Watch the roofs and walls.” They methodically walked forward, their boots echoing on the apparently deserted UFO.  All the paths appeared to end in another large room and just at the edge of it, he paused.

“Halt at the end,” he ordered softly, lowering himself to one knee. The soldiers behind him followed suit. He listened for any audio cues…and heard a faint whirring and slobbering sounds. He pursed his lips, some of the alien animals?

“Orders, Commander?” Patricia asked, looking across at him.

“See anything?” He asked.

“There’s a force field shielding an entrance to another room,” Patricia answered. “But I don’t see anything, no.”

“Same here,” Mira confirmed. “The ship appears to be symmetrical to a degree.”

“It sounds like something’s down in the room in front of me,” the Commander said, looking forward. “Try to secure the rooms before we advance.”

Both teams moved forward and he saw them pause outside the thin entrance. Each team in a standard door breach formation.

_“Opening.”_ Mira said as she reached over to dissipate the force field. Patricia did the same.

“Contact!” Mira shouted and all the soldiers began firing into the room.

“Move up!” The Commander yelled and his team charged forward and took positions over the railing that overlooked a depression in the room. And on the floor were those purple alien creatures. All of them turned their beady eyes towards them and roared, spittle flying from their mouths.

He quickly counted six. “Fire!” He yelled and the floor quickly became a deadly laser trap which the creatures managed to avoid for the most part. One was cut in two but the rest had lighting reflexes and charged up the ramps along the walls. Whatever alien were inside the rooms Patricia and Mira were dealing with, they were returning fire as green plasma slammed into the walls behind them.

Thinking fast, the Commander aimed his weapon at the wall and fired. “Sustain the beams!” He yelled. “Let them run to their deaths!” His strategy worked brilliantly, two of the aliens creatures ran right through the beam, not realizing what it was and were promptly severed in two.

Abby had caught on as well and repeated the same procedure for the opposite wall and claimed the life of another alien creature. The Commander was forced to cease his beam and hastily reload while Carmelita took over, though she used a much weaker pistol since she had one of the laser shotguns.

Two of the creatures remained and Carmelita’s weaker pistol beam wasn’t enough and the animal stormed through, it’s chitin armor cracked and scorched even as it charged his position. Carmelita quickly switched to her shotgun, but the Commander interceded before she could and kicked the creature back.

It roared in pain and attempted to stab at him with it’s claws but he dodged and slammed his foot down on the joint. With his left hand, he pulled out the laser pistol and severed the opposite leg, then stepped back, made several quick laser cuts to completely dismember the alien. Finally, he slammed his boot down on the head attached to the wriggling torso, grinding it into the smooth metal of the alien ship.

The shell around it’s head cracked like a beetle and yellow blood oozed from it as it died. He looked back to see Friendly and Abby slicing the final animal into small pieces and he from the continuous laser and plasma fire, Mira and Patricia were still dealing with whatever was in the rooms.

“Status!” He called. “What’s in there?”

“Some of those floaters,” Patricia called, ducking from more plasma fire. “Those augmented flying aliens.”

Ah. At least they were pinned where they couldn’t use their height advantage. “Can you use grenades?” He suggested.

“Yes,” Mira confirmed as she returned fire along with several of her team. “But there’s a power source in here. We might blow us this ship is we damage it.”

Damn it. “We’ll move to flank!” He called and motioned to the ramps that led up to the two rooms the floaters were trapped in. “Alba, with me. Gertrude and Friendly, help out Patricia!”

“Yes, Commander!” They yelled and the Commander and Carmelita charged down the ramp and began moving up the other side. There was another large force field that likely led to another area of the ship, but disabling it now would _not_ be a good idea. They moved to the entrance into the room and disabled that force field, revealing two floaters exchanging fire behind a small pedestal supporting a glowing power source.

Two floater corpses littered the ground, likely from first contact, but the others were firmly entrenched. That was, until Carmelita reduced them to blood and twisted metal with two quick successive shots from her laser shotgun.

He heard another alien mechanical groan and squeal and took that to mean Patricia’s help had cleared up the remaining floaters. “Patricia?” He called out. “Status!”

_“Clear,”_ she answered. _“All aliens are down here.”_

“Form up in the center of the room,” he ordered. “Watch for more ambushes. We’re probably close to the bridge now.”

“Hey, Commander, come down here!” He looked down into the small depression where the alien animals had been waiting and saw Abby and Friendly motioning him over.

He pointed at the shimmering force field. “Prepare for another breach,” he ordered Mira. “Let me check this out.” Quickly jogging down he made his way over to the two soldiers.

“What is it?” He asked, walking up.

“Look at this,” Abby tapped on one of the green pods he realized were lining the walls of the small depression. Each pod was filled with some kind of green substance, taking a closer look, there was a vague outline inside. A _human_ outline.

“Is that…”

“Human?” Friendly answered. “It appears so.”

“I’m not sure this is a just a transport,” Abby said slowly, looking at the rows of pods. “I think this is how the aliens are transporting the abducted civilians.”

“With just…” the Commander paused and counted. “Sixteen pods? There has to be more.”

“I can try working on the system,” Friendly suggest, looking at the alien pad on the side.

The Commander shook his head. “Let’s clear the ship first.” Both soldiers nodded and they jogged up to where the rest of the soldiers were positioned for the massive door breach.

“Open when ready,” the Commander ordered, raising his weapon. Mira touched the shimmering field and it receded to reveal another large room with a similar depression in the floor, except the elevated area at the other end contained alien computers and navigation equipment.

“Mira, ready your rocket launcher,” he ordered and she complied. He switched to his sniper rifle and took a closer look by the alien computers. He was fairly certain the outsiders deployed from the bridge and if he could destroy them before they transformed into their crystalline bodies….Vahlen and Shen would disapprove the destruction of the alien computers, but it might be worth it to end this fight now.

“Take the overlook,” he ordered, motioning to the small wall that blocked the edge of the depression. The Commander looked over the wall and saw nothing in the depression. He pointed at Carmelita and Friendly. “You two, watch the entrance. Make sure nothing sneaks up behind us.”

The nodded and took positions outside along the entrance walls. Satisfied that there would be no surprises from behind, the Commander motioned for Mira and Abby to follow him and they slowly walked towards the array of computers.

“If you hear anything, blow these to hell.” The Commander ordered Mira, who still held her rocket launcher at the ready. She nodded and sank to one knee as he and Abby approached the computers.

“Nothing seems to be here,” Abby muttered as she began fiddling with the controls on the row of interfaces and computers facing the entrance. “It’s dead.”

The Commander tapped one of the button on the row of consoles along the far wall. He froze as he heard a click.

“Move Commander!” Mira yelled and he dashed away without looking back and leapt over the small wall into the depression. Abby had done the same and they crouched as the sound of a massive explosion hit them.

“Status!” He called.

“Nothing,” Mira answered, walking down and slinging the rocket launcher over her shoulder. “The computers are reduced to ash and anything inside them was as well.”

He didn’t bother asking if she made sure. Mira didn’t leave much to chance. “Excellent,” he told her. “That-“

“Disks coming in!” Friendly shouted and all the soldiers quickly scrambled to cover as three of the shining disks descended. Carmelita and Friendly fired, but the lasers washed off the chrome plating like water.

“Wait for them to open!” The Commander ordered as he dashed up the ramp and took cover behind one of the defunct computers. Pulling out his sniper rifle, he glanced down the sight at the three disks.

“Mira, do you have another rocket?” He asked her, glancing over.

She was already loading another one. “One of the shredder rockets.” She answered quickly. “Might help with that armor.”

“Use grenades at will!” The Commander ordered as the disks kept advancing, confident in their invulnerability. Several of the soldiers tossed grenades that didn’t appear to do much more than dent them, however it forced one to open up and by then every soldier knew it’s weakness. Before it could even fire out a single shot, six different laser beams tore into it from nearly every direction.

Sparking with yellow light, the disk exploded, flinging shrapnel everywhere.

“Firing rocket!” Mira called as another orange streak tore across the room. It struck true and utterly annihilated another disk while tearing the armor of the third. No longer the shiny, spotless machine, it began flying back, leaking yellow fluid.

But the damage was too extensive and the laser tore and widened the holes and cracks from the rocket until they pierced vital systems and the machine slowly fell like a feather until it crashed to the ground and exploded a few seconds later.

Silence once more fell over the battlefield. “I think that’s all of them.” The Commander told them, walking up. With the wrecks of the alien disks and corpses of an entire ships crew behind him the Commander turned to face his soldiers, smiled and raised his rifle. “This ship is ours!”

The soldiers cheered in victory and the Commander imagined that somewhere, the fallen XCOM soldiers were smiling down on them.

Score one for humanity.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Vengeful Vengeance

  _Note: Really? – The Commander_

_Personnel:_

Jaguar 1 _(Squad Overseer)_ : The Commander

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 6

Jaguar 2: Specialist Mira Vauner

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 8

Jaguar 3: Specialist Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 5

Jaguar 4: Specialist Abigail Gertrude

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 2

Jaguar 5: Specialist Carmelita Alba

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 4

Jaguar 6: Specialist Myra Rodriguez

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 3

Jaguar 7: Specialist Karl Lulling

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 4

Jaguar 8: Specialist Glenn Friedlein (“Friendly”)

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 2

Jaguar 9: Specialist Cai Wong

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 2

Jaguar 10: Specialist Vickie Webb

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 1

Jaguar 11: Specialist Rob Gorman

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 2

Jaguar 12: Specialist Pete Chandler

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 2

           

Mission Director – The Commander

Pilot 1: Riley Ignis – Call sign: “Burning Sky”

Pilot 2: Tristin Ward – Call sign: “Fallen Sky”

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-3x Sectoid Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-4x Thin (Wo)men Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-8x Alien Shock Trooper Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-6x Alien Creature Corpses (Severe to Moderate Damage)

-6x “Floater” Corpses (Moderate Damage)

-6x Seeker Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-3x Disk Wrecks (Moderate Damage)

-123 Alien Weapon Fragments

-400 Alien Alloys (Stripped from UFO)

-2x Alien Power Sources

-2x Alien Computers  

-6(?)x Alien Computers (Damaged)

-16x Alien Stasis Pods

-6x Canisters of Unidentified Alien Substance

 

 

  

 

 


	30. UFO Assault: Raider

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

“A successful mission if I’ve ever seen one,” Van Doorn congratulated as the Commander walked into the Situation Room still wearing his scuffed and stained silver armor. The Commander set his helmet on a nearby table and took his position in front of the holotable.

He had to agree. That mission had gone quite well. No casualties and they’d soundly beaten the alien forces. Overall, he didn’t have any complaints, just questions about what they’d found. “I can agree with that,” he answered the General, satisfaction evident in his voice. “Our soldiers performed well.”

“You didn’t do so bad yourself,” Van Doorn commented. “It was impressive.”

“Appreciated,” the Commander answered and nodded over at Shen. “Good job with the armor. It held up well.”

“A relief to hear,” Shen answered, inclining his head. “Everything work to your satisfaction?”

The Commander shrugged. “It’s a bit bulky, but that might be personal preference. I tend to prefer lighter armor. Quicker to move around.”

She rubbed his chin as he considered that. “That’s helpful, Commander. Later, I have some new schematics I’d like to show you. I think you’d find them interesting.”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. Interesting. “I’ll be sure to do that,” he promised. “Hopefully not too much later.” He picked up his tablet and plugged it into the holotable and a 3D recreation of the alien ship appeared.

“Have you finished your assessment of the alien ship?” He asked Shen, motioning him to come forward. The engineer stepped up to the center of the holotable.

“We’ve recreated it as accurately as possible,” Shen answered. “I think everyone initially assume it was a transport of some kind based on its size and shape.” He pointed towards the middle of the ship. “However, based on what we recovered, I think this was transporting captive humans.”

“We discovered hundreds of pods containing human bodies stored within the ship,” Vahlen continued. “Those stations containing the pods you saw in the ship itself were only the mechanisms for which they stored them.”

“The machinery was damaged,” Shen said, zooming in the image of the rows of suspension pods. “But based on what I observed, they work as a lift mechanism of sorts. The aliens likely placed the pods inside the stations and those deposited them within the UFO. The same method would be utilized for bringing them out.”

“Do you think that’s the purpose of this ship?” the Commander asked.

“Abductions?” Shen asked, cocking his head. “Yes, I believe so. And not necessarily human abductions either. The pods could potentially support a number of species.”

“A multipurpose tool,” Bradford mused. “Which suggests that the aliens have carried out similar work in the past.”

The Commander shrugged. “Whether they did or not before doesn’t matter. What they’re doing now isn’t acceptable and never will be.” He looked over at Vahlen. “Were there any survivors?”

She shook her head. “No, Commander. Each body we pulled out was dead.”

He pursed his lips. “A shame.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean they were killed beforehand,” Shen interjected thoughtfully. “It’s possible they died when the UFO was shot down or the equipment was damaged.”

The Commander looked at Vahlen. “Is that possible?”

“Yes,” she nodded, tapping on her tablet and handing it to him. “I’ve performed some preliminary tests with that green substance.” On the tablet were a bunch of scribbled notes and several images of lab animals suspended in the stuff. He suppressed a sigh. He wished Vahlen remembered that he wasn’t as smart as her in this area.

“Is the substance toxic?” He asked, handing it back to her.

“No,” she confirmed. “It appears to be a suspension agent of some kind. As long as the subject is quickly submerged in it, it will keep them alive. Though I don’t believe it is indefinite.”

“Could we use this for our own captive aliens?” Zhang asked, face expressionless. “It would be more practical that keeping them drugged indefinitely.”

That was an excellent idea and the Commander was half-irritated that he hadn’t thought of it first. Benefits of having an Internal Council. It was clear that it hadn’t occurred to Vahlen either, but her face lit up as she began envisioning the possibilities.

“I believe that could be arranged,” she told Zhang with a growing smile. “I’ll have to perform some more tests, but I think it’s an excellent idea.”

“I’ll see what I can do with developing some specialized containment modules,” Shen added. “Excellent idea, Zhang.”

The stoic man almost cracked a smile as he inclined his head in thanks.

“I concur,” the Commander agreed. “Excellent idea. In fact…” he paused. “Let me know how long a human could survive in there.”

“You have an idea?” Van Doorn asked.

“I was thinking it would likely be more pleasant for our German heads of state,” the Commander explained. “Not to mention we could store them here without relying on Israeli safe houses.

“I’m not entirely comfortable with that,” Van Doorn frowned. “Using them for aliens is one thing. But we’re trying to _prevent_ humans from entering these pods. I’m not sure this should be used on…well, _us_.”

“It’s more secure,” the Commander argued. “Not to mention efficient and likely better for them than waiting potentially years before they’re needed.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of efficiency,” Shen amended, wringing his hands. “It’s the fact that we’re using alien technology on _humans_.”

“We’ve been using alien technology since this war started,” the Commander reminded him wearily. “It makes no sense to draw the line on humans, especially if there are benefits.”

“Perhaps there is a compromise,” Van Doorn interjected, looking at both of them. “We only use alien technology on humans as a last resort.” He looked at the Commander. “So if it actually _does_ become too impractical or dangerous to keep them at the safe house, then we stick them in containers. Otherwise we let them be.”

The Commander pondered that. Technically, he had the authority to overrule Shen and Van Doorn on this issue, but it seemed such a trivial thing to start a fight over. Not to mention he hadn’t even thought it would be an issue beforehand. Restricting themselves simply because the originating technology wasn’t human was naïve and foolish.

However, this wasn’t a major issue and he saw no reason to make it into one. Van Doorn’s proposition was reasonable, so he simply shrugged. “That sounds reasonable to me, Shen?”

The elder man nodded. “Very well.”

“Keep in mind we don’t even know this technology is safe for humans,” Vahlen reminded them. “Although to effectively test it, I’m going to need a human subject.”

“If you could ensure their safety, I’m sure some of our soldiers would volunteer.” Bradford suggested, adjusting a gear on his headset.

Vahlen shook her head. “I’m not going to experiment on our soldiers. I can’t make guarantees.”

Based on her intake of breath, it appeared Vahlen was ready to bring up the subject of human tests. This should be interesting.

“If not the soldiers, then who?” Shen questioned, concern in his eyes.

“That,” Vahlen answered slowly. “Is a question that should be answered. Sooner rather than later.”

“You want to perform human experimentation?” Van Doorn asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain that is illegal under UN regulations.”

Vahlen shook her head. “With all due respect, General, that really doesn’t matter. Sooner or later we’re going to reach a point that requires human subjects, whether we like it or not.”

“We are still technically under the UN,” Van Doorn reminded her. “If they were to find out-“

“Legality does not concern me.” The Commander interrupted firmly. “What I’ve authorized, ordered and approved makes the ‘crime’ of human experimentation pale in comparison. We killed Saudi soldiers and helped a _military_ assume control of a _country_.”

He looked around the room, meeting each of their gazes. “Of the arguments _for_ and _against_ this, _legality_ should be least among them. If they were to find out what we’ve done, we’d all be tried, convicted and executed. One more broken rule won’t make any difference, especially one as trivial as this.”

“Human life isn’t exactly trivial,” Bradford countered, voice rising. “Especially if these experiments could be terminal.”

“Besides,” Shen crossed his arms. “I’m not exactly sure they’d be wrong.”

“Right or wrong doesn’t matter,” Zhang countered, his voice steel as he glared at Shen. “We did what was necessary. All of us knew of the possibilities and we accepted them. Blame the aliens or the Council for forcing our hand, but don’t make it out like we wanted this.”

The Commander looked at Van Doorn. “General, I assume you have an opinion?”

The bald man looked down at the holotable. “The United Nations isn’t perfect,” he stated quietly. “No question. But they do place laws for good reason. Do some of them limit our efficiency? Yes, of course. But it’s what separates us from warring, unethical and irresponsible savages.”

He looked up at the Commander. “But you’re also right. With the fate of our species at stakes some of those have to be tossed aside for the greater good, though not all of them.” A bit of heat crept into his tone. “Your Hades Contingency does cross too many lines. I didn’t speak up because it was clear this had been in the planning for some time. But had I known what you were _actually_ going to do, I might have reconsidered.”

The Commander held his gaze. “It worked.” He answered simply. “The Hades Contingency brought stability to a fractured country, the chaos _enabled_ by the Council no less. Do I wish it was accomplished otherwise? Certainly. But I would give the order again with no regrets.”

There was silence in the room.

“I understand your reasoning,” Van Doorn finally said. “But know that I will not support it.”

The Commander nodded. “Understood. If someone had offered me a viable alternative I would have gladly taken it.”

“Well then,” Van Doorn clasped his hands behind his back. “I suppose I’ll have to ensure there is one.”

The Commander nodded once. “I would like nothing better.”

“If I may,” Vahlen interrupted, clutching her tablet. “There may be a solution to this human experimentation issue than may work for everyone.”

The Commander nodded at her. “Go ahead.”

“Prisoners,” Vahlen explained brightly. “Specifically, those who have been convicted of the death penalty or are on death row. No one cares about criminals, so we could probably take them without raising too much suspicion. Not to mention they could fulfill a higher purpose to society besides testing new lethal injections.”

Zhang nodded in approval. “It will add some meaning to their miserable lives.”

That was one of the options the Commander was considering for this particular issue, and he had to agree with Vahlen that it was the best one. “Excellent idea, Vahlen.”

Van Doorn pursed his lips. “It’s better than using civilians or volunteers, I suppose.”

“They’re still people,” Shen reminded them wearily. Despite his annoyance, the Commander did have to admire that Shen stuck by his principles, ridiculous as they were. “Just because they’re criminals doesn’t mean they’re automatically lesser than ordinary people.”

“Are you seriously going to defend the rights of murderers and rapists,” Zhang demanded incredulously, some actual anger creeping into his tone. “You’ve clearly never met one then. I’ve dealt with men and woman like that for _years_. I’ve seen the truly deprived and amoral and they don’t _deserve_ anything.”

“I suppose you’re the one exception?” Shen shot back angrily. “If anything I’d expect you to be more sympathetic.”

“ _Why_?” Zhang hissed, eyes flashing. “Because I was with the _Triad_? I assure you Shen, the Triad is one of the more honorable criminal organizations that exist in this world. At least when I had a say. We didn’t kill for sport or promote sadism.” Zhang paused and continued in a controlled voice.

“I’ve killed people.” He stated coldly. “And no, not all of them deserved it. But look around, Shen. Three of the six of us have killed before. I don’t see you questioning any of them.”

“Four.” Vahlen corrected softly.

“Tell me, Shen,” Zhang continued bluntly. “Would you still have the same opinions of the ‘rights’ of these criminals if they described how they shot a school full of kids? Or how they enjoyed raping young boys and girls regularly?”

Shen was silent.

“Your silence speaks for itself,” Zhang stated, his tone returning to normal. “Those animals deserve no mercy or rights. They don’t deserve a dignified death and they _certainly_ don’t deserve decent men like you defending them because you don’t know better.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Vahlen interjected. “They gave up their rights when they were sentenced to die.”

That speech by Zhang honestly deserved some kind of applause. He could not have said it better. However, that wouldn’t be very tactful or appropriate. But it certainly validated his decision to have Zhang on this council and Director of XCOM Intelligence. He gave a nod of approval towards Zhang. “Well said.”

There was silence around the room. “I’ll see what I can do,” Bradford finally broke the silence, tapping on his tablet. “The United States normally has a high count of prisoners on death row. It shouldn’t be too hard to procure some.”

“It’s settled,” The Commander stated. “Are there any objections?”

The room was silent. Shen didn’t even bother raising his hand. Perhaps he learned something today. He nodded at Bradford. “Make the arrangements.”

He sighed. “Last thing. I’ve already brought Zhang up to speed, but need to do the same for everyone else.” He picked up his tablet and sent a document to each of theirs. “What I’ve sent you is a new protocol I’ve drafted: Atlas.”

He looked around at them to drive it home. “It effectively replaces the Hestia Contingency. I want each of you to write the sections for your own division and submit them back to me. You have complete autonomy with the content. But remember that lives depend on what your write, so make an effort.”

“How soon do you want this completed?” Bradford asked, looking at the document.

“Ideally within the next two weeks,” the Commander answered. “I want to be prepared and we can’t afford to lose the Citadel without the Hephaestus Contingency in place.”

He looked around at them. “Everyone understand?”

They all nodded. He gave them his salute. “Dismissed.”

All of them returned his salute. Though he did notice some hesitation from Van Doorn and Bradford. Shen didn’t bother at all, just giving him a curt nod.

Well, at the very least, he didn’t have to worry about everyone agreeing with him just because he was in command. He hated “yes men” councils and preferred as much diversity as possible. Different perspectives always payed off, even if, or _especially_ if they didn’t agree with him personally. He could live with that.

He wasn’t concerned about Shen. He’d cool off eventually once he had time to think.

But it was always best to be prepared for the worst case scenario.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

The mood in the room was as celebratory as she’d ever seen it. Soldiers chatted boisterously and there were smiles all around. The taking of the UFO had brought about an air of victory that was sorely needed after several major injuries and defeats.

Mira wasn’t personally affected by the cheerful air. A victory was a victory to her, nothing more or less. A major one, to be sure, but was it the game changer that some were making it out to be?

Unlikely. But she wouldn’t dampen their spirits tonight. She grabbed a plate and walked over to the buffet where there were several different soups. There were labels on each of them, but they all just looked like the same soup, just different colors. She ended up choosing the creamy white one. It honestly didn’t matter to her, she didn’t eat for enjoyment anymore.

She looked across the room. There were several empty spaces, but she didn’t really want to be alone with her thoughts at the moment. They would inevitably center back to Luke and her irrational concern about him. As much as she tried to tell herself that he’d be fine using rationality, some part of her was uncharacteristically worried.

And despite her threat to Patricia, the woman been correct. She _was_ interested in Luke, strange as it was to admit. More uncomfortable was the fact that she’d been for a while now. She’d eventually rationalized the possibility away by convincing herself that he wouldn’t feel the same because his wife had died…ignoring that the exact same could be said for her.

Ironically, judging from Patricia’s comments, that seemed to be exactly the case with him as well. Provided of course, that Patricia was interpreting him correctly _and_ not messing with her. She snorted, Patricia knew who she was. She’d wouldn’t lie about something like this.

It wasn’t as though her concerns were irrational. People didn’t get over the death of a spouse immediately, if at all. Some took years, others took a few months. And from what he described, the experience had seemed traumatic for him, especially as a civilian. He seemed fine now, but she was still wary. She wasn’t good at the delicacies of a relationship, even before everything she’d cared about had died.

She shook her head. But even that excuse wasn’t the whole truth of why she’d held back, or even most of it. Much as she hated to admit it, she knew her appearance was to do with her reluctance. Men were attracted to beauty and she’d lost that when she’d lost her face and she honestly didn’t think that was something Luke would ignore, much as he might want to or say it didn’t matter.

“Hey, you alright?” Mira looked up to see Abby facing her, holding a bowl with some soup of her own. The woman actually appeared concerned.

“Fine.” Mira answered curtly. “Just thinking.”

Abby motioned her to one of the tables. “C’mon. Let’s sit down, we deserve it after a mission like that.”

Normally, she’d feel inclined to refuse and eat on her own. But in this case she felt it would be unnecessary to refuse. Luke would probably want that as well. He’d think it was good for her to socialize with others…forgetting she often led soldiers without pointless chatting. But she shrugged and followed her to that table. It might be worth indulging this woman if it occupied her for a time.

They sat down opposite each other and began eating. The soup had no taste to her, not that she was particular focused on it to begin with.

“Good shooting on the mission,” Abby complimented with a smile. “How many outsiders did you kill with that rocket?”

Mira thought back and shrugged. “Unknown. I fired when the machines started hissing.”

“Well, good job regardless.” Abby continued. “I don’t think a mission’s gone that well in a while.”

“The Commander was leading it,” Mira reminded her as she took some more spoonfuls of her soup. “We had more soldiers and were fighting in favorable conditions. We had the advantage.”

Abby chuckled. “Really Mira? You could let us have this one victory.”

Mira frowned and cocked her head. She hadn’t meant to imply otherwise, just that it wasn’t luck that the mission had gone well. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Accepted,” Abby answered good-naturedly. “But even if we did have the advantage, it was still a fine victory regardless.”

“I agree,” Mira stated, not sure what more needed to be said. “The Commander did a fine job.”

“That he did,” Abby nodded. “I suppose his skills weren’t exaggerated.”

“You believe they were?” Mira asked, finishing up her soup.

Abby shrugged. “A bit. I mean, it’s not like they’re going to tell us the Commander is an awful soldier or something. Propaganda, you know.”

She did, and to some extent, Abby was right to be suspicious. But the Commander was one of the few superiors she’d had in her entire career that she trusted. His performance on the battlefield confirmed it. “Understandable,” she told her. “But I think the Commander is someone who doesn’t exaggerate.”

“He certainly knew what he was doing,” Abby continued. “Several times I thought for sure we were going to lose someone.”

Mira pursed her lips. “It rare for that thought not to occur in a mission.”

“I suppose,” Abby conceded. “You and Patricia didn’t do so badly either.”

Mira shrugged. “I did nothing special. Neither did Patricia. We did our jobs well, nothing more or less. If it had gone poorly, I doubt you’d be saying the same thing.”

Abby looked at her, amused. “You don’t accept praise well, do you?”

“I have a realistic grasp on my abilities,” Mira explained. “What happened on the mission was no more than what was required of me.”

“Fine,” Abby answered, a glint in her eye. “Then let me say that your performance during that battle was completely average.”

Mira almost cracked a smile, something resembling amusement kindling inside her. “Much better.”

Abby took a sip of her water. “I’ve checked up on Luke,” she said cheerfully. “He’s doing well. I think I’ll take him out of the ICU either tonight or tomorrow.”

Mira felt unreasonably… _happy_ about that. Careful to not let any of it show, even with her hood, she inclined her head. “That’s good to hear.”

“I’ll let you know when I wake him up,” Abby promised her. “I suspect he’ll be happy to see a friendly face.”

Mira raised an eyebrow. “Have you _seen_ my face?”

Abby grinned at her. “You know what I mean. You can thank Patricia for the idea, I didn’t even know you were friends.”

Ah yes. Thank you so very much, Patricia. “I don’t advertise it.” She answered. “I see no need.”

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” Abby said cheerfully. “It’s nice you found someone you can talk to.”

“We’re talking now.” Mira reminded her.

Abby snorted. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not. In any case, I’m happy for you. Everyone needs friends.”

Hmm. Mira didn’t entirely agree with that. You could certainly get through life without friends. Though she supposed the fact that she was more open to the idea meant that she’d changed greatly. Again, because of Luke’s persistence in talking to her. He’d influenced her, and she wasn’t sure if it was good or bad from a practical standpoint.

Not that it changed her feelings at all. But it was interesting to compare herself now to a few months ago. The differences were…rather large. Perhaps having attachments wasn’t as big an issue as she’d believed, but she certainly wasn’t going to put people she cared about before the mission. That seemed a fair compromise.

As Abby chatted on with her idly listening, she wondered how soon it would be before she was forced to test her commitment.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

The doors hissed aside as the Commander once again marched into the Situation Room. Bradford had called him here only a few hours after their last meeting, so he was expecting something important. Van Doorn was also here and nodded towards him as he approached the holotable.

“What’s the situation?” The Commander asked Bradford who was looking down on the holotable.

He motioned down. “See for yourself.”

The Commander looked down to see a glowing blue hologram of a UFO. He frowned. “What is this from?”

“That,” Van Doorn answered. “Is a UFO that’s just touched down in the Yukon. We have satellite coverage over that area so we were able to get an accurate recreation.”

“Rather bold of them,” The Commander commented. “Especially so soon after they lost one of their abductors.”

“That was probably an unexpected loss for them,” Bradford pointed out. “This seems planned.”

“Why set down in Yukon?” The Commander wondered. “It’s an isolated wilderness.”

“If I had to guess,” Van Doorn pondered, looking intently at the hologram. “This is another trap. Haiti was a similar situation, it may be that the aliens want to see if it’ll work again.”

“They’d have to know we’d anticipate something like this,” the Commander pointed out. “It makes no sense to think it would work again.”

“Perhaps it’s not a trap at all,” Bradford suggested. “They might have some other motive for landing.”

“Well, we’re not going to let them finish it,” the Commander stated firmly. “But this time we’ll be prepared for a trap.” He pointed down on the holotable. “Is this image live?”

“No,” Bradford shook his head. “This still was taken soon after it touched down. It began emitting some kind of distortion soon after.” He tapped some buttons on the holotable. “ _This_ is a live feed.”

The clean UFO recreation was now unrecognizable static. He could see a few flashes of solid images, but nothing worth trying to actually use. “Could we use simple video feed?” he asked.

“Unfortunately not,” Van Doorn answered regretfully. “The aliens choose well. They docked in a forested area and clouds are obscuring the LZ.”

“But we _do_ have a terrain map of the surrounding area,” Bradford added smugly and pressed another button and the UFO reappeared, but this time with a full terrain map with trees, rocks and other environmental objects. “We may not know what they’re doing now, but the terrain is unlikely to change.”

“Good work,” the Commander agreed, looking at the holotable. “What’s the size comparison?”

Bradford tapped again on the holotable’s controls and the terrain disappeared and more UFO models appeared next to the new one.

“The large UFO is an estimate,” Bradford corrected. “Since we weren’t able to complete that mission, the data isn’t confirmed. But based on the readings we gathered, it appears larger than this new one.”

“A medium model of some kind,” Van Doorn guessed, pointing at the smaller holograms. “It’s at least a twice as large as their largest scout.”

“Good to know,” the Commander noted. “What are the conditions?”

“Cold and there’s snow on the ground,” Bradford informed him. “But nothing extreme.”

“Prepare a skyranger,” he ordered Bradford. “I’ll put together a squad. If it is a trap, we need to have our best ready.”

“If I may, Commander,” Van Doorn interrupted, handing him a tablet. “I’ve already compiled a team.” The Commander took it with a raised eyebrow and quickly scanned it.

“A good group,” the Commander approved. “But I would switch one of them out for Mira.”

“Are you sure,” Van Doorn asked. “I was trying to select soldiers with experience in extreme conditions or have useful skill sets.”

The Commander smirked. “You haven’t met her, have you?”

“Not personally,” Van Doorn admitted. “But she was one of the soldiers participating in my extraction, correct?”

“Correct.” Bradford confirmed.

“Trust me,” the Commander promised as he made the switch. “She’s as tested as they come. Keep Patricia in command, but I want her on the squad.”

“If you say so,” Van Doorn conceded. “I’ll send out the alerts.”

“In the meantime,” the Commander turned back to the holotable. “Let’s see how best to assault this UFO.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Hanger Bay_

Abby rolled her shoulder as she walked, trying to keep breaking in the new armor. It was objectively better than what she’d worn before, but she was still getting used to the greater weight. It was slightly bulkier, but that was to be expected from greater protection. She grasped her laser rifle tighter, hoping that she’d be a little more alert when they actually set down.

She hadn’t expected to get called in literal hours after they’d returned. But the aliens didn’t rest and she supposed they mustn’t either. Still, she’d hoped for some rest before the next deployment.

The door to the hanger hissed open and she walked into the familiar hanger. She was pleased to see Sarah and Patricia waiting as well. But the one who drew her attention was the massive man speaking with Patricia. Unlike the rest of them, his helmet was off and tucked under his arm.

She paused as she tried recalling who he was. Creed? Yes, that was it. One of the Navy SEALS and an excellent soldier if his kill count in that Saudi Arabia mission was any indication. She honestly wouldn’t have guessed be was American, though, since he was clearly of Asian descent.

Creed turned to face her as she walked up and gave her a slight smile. “Specialist Gertrude,” he greeted as he extended a hand. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. Anius Creed.”

She took his offered hand, which he shook firmly, but not forcefully. She supposed precision was essential to him and appreciated it nonetheless. Some soldiers didn’t exactly have good pressure senses. “A pleasure to meet you,” she answered. “But just call me Abby.”

“If you insist,” he responded, inclining his head. “It’ll be good to have an actual medical professional on this op.”

“Well, I still hope I’m not needed,” she answered with a shrug. “I’ll be content killing aliens.”

“Speaking of which,” Sarah interrupted. “Any of you know what we’re doing?”

“It involves a UFO,” Patricia answered. “A landed one I think. The Commander will let us know more on our way.”

“That was fast,” Abby commented with a frown. “I’d think losing that large UFO would set them back.”

“Look at it this way,” Creed interjected. “Once we kill every alien from this ship, they’ll be set back even more.”

“Assuming that we _do_ manage it.” Sarah pointed out apprehensively.

Creed snorted in derision. “That’s defeatist talk.”

“Or just cautious,” Sarah defended. “Arrogance doesn’t help anyone.”

“I agree,” Patricia nodded. “That’ll certainly get us killed. Or just you.”

“It’s only arrogance if you can’t back it up,” Creed insisted with a smile. “Each of us were chosen because we are the best. Underestimating ourselves could be just as devastating.”

Abby eyed him. “You’re very confidant.”

“I have every reason to be,” he assured her pleasantly. “I’m a SEAL.”

He said that if it was just supposed to explain everything. Patricia was decidedly unimpressed. “Join the club with every other special forces group represented. You’re not special.”

Creed was clearly amused. “I’d imagine that I do sound pretty arrogant right now. But there is a reason the SEALS are regarded as the best in the world.”

“Which is completely subjective.” Sarah amended hotly.

“Though crowd,” he mused good naturedly. “Although,” he looked behind Abby and she heard the door hiss. “We should probably continue this discussion some other time.” He placed his helmet on with a hiss as it sealed and Abby turned to see Mira and another man walking beside her.

She didn’t recognize him, but she was fairly certain he’d been involved on at least some of the missions before. He didn’t seem to be one of the new recruits. Behind them was their pilot, Jason.

“Let’s go!” He called to them. “I don’t want the aliens leaving before we arrive!”

“You heard him!” Patricia repeated, waving them all towards the skyranger. “Load up!”

* * *

 

_Skyranger, En route to LZ_

“I didn’t expect them to show up this soon,” the soldier Abby hadn’t recognized, Malcom was his name, commented as the skyranger tore across the sky. “Wonder if this is in response to our victory.”

Mira shook her head. “Did all of you think the aliens were just going to pull back and reevaluate their entire campaign simply because we won _one_ battle?” Everyone looked at her, since she wasn’t prone to speaking outside giving orders.

Although, she could carry on a decent conversation. Abby did suspect that she’d stopped paying attention during their dinner chat about halfway through, but she supposed it was better than her not interacting with people at all. It appeared Luke had eased her up a little, even if she was still blunt and undiplomatic.

“I don’t think this is related to our victory at all,” Mira continued, folding her hands together. “This was likely planned in advance and we so happened to learn about it after raiding that UFO.”

“Then I suppose that begs the question of what _are_ they doing?” Sarah stated. “This isn’t an abduction. Could it be another trap?”

“That wouldn’t be very smart,” Abby pointed out, frowning. “Wouldn’t they know we’d anticipate that after Haiti?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Creed shrugged. “And this time a trap won’t work.”

_“The success of failure of a trap depends entirely on how seriously you take that possibility,”_ The Commander interjected. _“Be vigilant and approach with caution and no trap will surprise you.”_

“Hello, Commander,” Patricia muttered. “Welcome to the conversation.”

_“Thank you, Patricia,”_ Abby could imagine the Commander smiling at that. _“Now, as you mostly all know now, we’ve detected a UFO landing in the Yukon. It’s isolated from any major population and we don’t know their current objective.”_

“Size?” Mira asked.

_“It appears to be twice as large as some of the scouts we’ve raided,”_ the Commander answered. _“It also appears to be smaller than the UFO in Haiti, though we’re working off incomplete data.”_

“So expect heavy resistance,” Patricia confirmed. “They’ll likely be expecting us.”

_“Unknown,”_ the Commander admitted. _“But likely. The UFO is emitting a signal that is disrupting our sensors, however, we do have a recreation of the surrounding terrain. Sending to you now.”_

An image appeared in the upper right of her screen. A forested valley with a UFO resting in a small clearing. The forest was dense and a small river ran alongside the UFO. Rocks and boulders were strewn around the area, providing decent over all around the UFO. They could virtually assault the UFO from all directions, however, the aliens also could use the terrain as cover too, possibly negating that advantage.

“Where is our drop point?” Patricia asked.

_“The only semi-open area is over the river,”_ the Commander stated. _“Big Sky will drop you into it. It’ll lead to the UFO.”_

“We could use the hills as a height advantage,” Creed pointed out. “Even better if we could use both sides.”

“The river also goes right alongside the UFO,” Mira pointed out curiously. “We could use that.”

“Yeah, but won’t that ruin our weapons?” Sarah asked. Abby nodded in agreement, that was a good point.

_“Shen listened to that issue with the ballistics and provided a fix to the laser weapons,”_ The Commander informed them. _“There’s a button on the barrel of the rifles that will completely seal the weapon. It takes fifteen seconds to unseal as well, so time it well.”_

Abby looked at her rifle and found the button and pressed it. Thin metal coverings came down over all openings with tiny clanks. When it was finished, it looked almost like a weapon replica. Interesting. She pressed the button again and the weapon unsealed.

“Excellent,” Patricia commented. “I know how we’re going to do this.”

She grabbed one of the tablets in the skyranger. “Transfer image to tablet.”

_“Will do.”_ The image of the terrain appeared and Patricia took out a stylus and began drawing. She drew a large X over where they were being dropped.

“We start here,” she began. “Then split into two teams. Me, Mira and Malcom will go around the right side of the UFO _here_.” She drew a line that circled around the UFO until they reached the forested hills overlooking the UFO. “Creed, Abby and Sarah will go through the river on the right side.” Patricia drew a line along the river and stopped alongside the UFO.

Abby sighed. She was not looking forward to the likely freezing water. At least it would completely wake her up. “Once we have an idea of their positioning, we’ll prepare an ambush.” Patricia continued. “Our height advantage and excellent cover will allow us to hold them off,” she pointed her stylus at Creed. “And when they all turn to us, _your_ team will strike.”

“Do our suits have an oxygen supply?” Creed asked.

_“Two minutes,”_ the Commander answered. _“It was designed to temporarily survive toxic gas or chemical warfare. Not diving.”_

“Good to know,” Creed nodded. “I’ll make do.”

“You have experience in amphibious warfare.” Patricia recalled with a nod.

Abby imagined Creed rolling his eyes. “I was _trained_ for this.”

“You’ll lead then,” Patricia ordered. “Abby, Sarah, follow his lead.”

“Understood.” They said.

_“This is Big Sky to Ram Team. We’re approaching the LZ in one minute.”_

“Understood, Big Sky.” Patricia acknowledged and stood. “Everyone ready!” The soldiers rose and readied their weapons with a symphony of clicks and hisses. The skyranger slowed until the ramp slowly descended and a wave of biting cold almost physically slammed into them.

Abby gritted her teeth. This was going to be _so_ much fun. Ropes dropped down and Patricia and Mira stormed out followed by the rest of them. “Deploy!” Patricia ordered and began grappling down.

Abby secured herself to the rope, hooked one leg around the rope and leapt off and descended into the frozen Canadian forest.

* * *

 

_Yukon Wilderness, Canada_

Abby gasped as she landed in the river with a splash. The cold was far worse than she anticipated, cutting through her armor and sapping all the heat out of her body. The others landed in with splashes as well and similar hisses and gasps of surprise.

Abby took out her pistol and sealed that, as well as her rifle. She’d landed in the shallower part of the creek, only about waist high and she could tell that it only got deeper towards the middle. “Weapons are sealed,” she told Patricia who was beginning to move towards the shore.

“Follow Creed,” she ordered. “Once you’re in position, wait for my signal.”

“Understood, Overseer,” Abby affirmed.

“We’ll let you know what we see,” Creed assured her as he placed his rifle on the slot in the back of his armor. He motioned Abby and Sarah deeper into the water. Abby sloshed after him reluctantly until she was almost completely submerged.

_“Lock down vocoders.”_ She heard Patricia order. She complied and looked to Creed who was treading water idly.

“Move forward,” he ordered. “The current is weak enough to swim against it. But don’t make too much noise.” With that he began silently swimming up the creek. Abby sighed and imitated him as best she could. After a few minutes the biting cold of the water had given way to numbness, and she wasn’t sure how long it was safe for them to stay in.

They glided through the water under the dawning sky, fortunate they were still doing this mostly in the dark otherwise they were pretty visible. She couldn’t see above the shore, but did note the creek getting narrower.

“Wait!” Sarah called out and both of them froze. “Listen!” She hissed and Abby paused and strained her ears over the rushing water. A faint hum reached her ears and a low pulsing registered in her head.

“I suppose that’s our UFO,” Creed muttered. “Keep going and stay to the right shore bank.”

Still moving cautiously, they kept swimming until Abby saw the shape of the UFO directly ahead. “There.” She pointed.

Creed nodded. “Don’t see any aliens, but that means nothing from down here. We’re going underwater the rest of the way.”

Both women nodded and lowered themselves underwater and furiously kicked and stroked their way forward, following Creed. The water was surprisingly clear and she saw lots of fish and other small marine life swimming along their merry way. She paused when Creed raised a hand and went up.

They followed and found themselves right alongside the UFO. Luckily a wall obscured them from being seen by any inside. Creed motioned them up and they climbed out and pressed themselves against the side of the UFO. Abby shivered as she felt it. The metal seemed abnormally warm and it seemed to give a little as she leaned on it.

She stepped back and rested a hand on it. As much as she was sure she was imagining it, the metal almost seemed to be pulsing, beating to a heart inside. “Overseer, this is Creed,” the SEAL informed her. “We’re on the side of the UFO now. Preparing to do recon.”

_“Acknowledged,”_ Patricia answered. _“We’re almost in position as well. We’re in sight of the UFO.”_

“Copy,” Creed acknowledged. “We’ll be ready.”

He motioned them up and the crept alongside the UFO. All of them had unsealed their weapons, so they were prepared if a firefight ensued. Creed whistled as he peeked around the UFO. “Overseer, feeding squadsight to all team members.”

Abby’s HUD flickered as the squadsight feed superimposed itself over her own. She knew how to adjust it to be less intrusive, but wanted as clear a picture as possible. What she saw made her incredibly nervous.

Six sectoids were milling around, with strange instruments in their hands. If she had to guess, it seemed they were performing research of some kind as they were placing samples of soil and snow into vials and odd containers. Several of them were chittering to each other in what she assumed was their language or something resembling it.

But the real center of attention was the giant… _thing_ …that watched the area around them. It appeared to be a mechanical biped of some kinds. It was at least five times higher than the little sectoids and seemed to barely fit through the UFO entrance. Instead of arms, it had plasma cannons attached instead, massive ones that were built in a railgun design and glowed green.

But the most interesting thing about the machine was that it didn’t appear to be one at all. The head of the machine was nothing more than a sectoid. Which meant that this was nothing more than a giant exoskeleton. It’s face was open, but she could see that armor plating would probably slide down over it if it was under attack.

Even that wasn’t all. Guarding the entrance of the UFO were two of the green clad aliens and she wouldn’t be surprised if there were more inside. “I guess the aliens realized that the sectoids aren’t well protected,” Sarah muttered. “And made up for it the most extreme way possible.”

_“That will be our primary target,”_ Patricia informed them. _“Mira will blow that thing to pieces and mop up from there. Doesn’t seem to be too much resistance.”_

“Don’t forget the outsiders,” Abby reminded her. “They’re probably not activated yet. And I doubt those armored aliens are the only ones either.”

_“I know. Hang tight, we’re almost in position.”_

Abby readied her rifle in anticipation. “Once Patricia launches her attack I’ll be taking cover _there_.” She pointed at a high boulder that would provide excellent cover.

“I’ll take that tree,” Sarah pointed at one a short distance away. “It should be enough.”

“I’ll stay here,” Creed confirmed. “I have shots on all of them from here.” He raised his weapon. “Get ready to dash.”

_“Rocket lined up.”_ Mira stated. _“Ready to fire.”_

_“Now.”_

Abby heard the roar of a rocket and all the aliens turned at the sound and Abby heard a brilliant explosion as the rocket blasted the mech’s face, instantly killing it. With a metal groan and sparks flying off it’s body the mech fell over backwards, dead.

The sectoids scrambled as autolaser fire raised down on them from the hills combined with Malcom’s laser bursts. The two armored aliens also got into cover behind trees and began returning fire, plasma spitting from their rifles. Not all the sectoids survived. One was sliced in half from a laser burst and another had most of it’s head missing from another laser blast.

But now all the surviving sectoids had taken cover and were firing back. The red streaks were quickly becoming outmatched from the green plasma. _“Now, Creed!”_ Patricia yelled.

“With pleasure,” he responded gleefully. “Kill them all.” They charged to their positions and Creed sent two laser shots into the armored aliens unprotected heats. Both collapsed to the ground with a thud. Abby lined up a shot on unsuspecting sectoid and burned a hole through it’s heart.

Sarah used a sustained beam and cut two into pieces. The final sectoid finally realized what had happened and began chittering frantically before Creed stormed over to the little alien, grabbed it by it’s scrawny throat and slammed it into the UFO several times until it stopped moving.

“I think it’s still alive,” he said, kneeling down and pulling out restraints of some kind. “Tell the doc we’ve got another specimen for her.”

“More are coming!” Sarah called and pointed at the UFO entrance as three more armored aliens dashed out. Abby let off a few laser bursts but all of them bounced off their armor.

“ _Fall back_!” Patricia ordered. _“We’re coming down to assist.”_

The aliens began firing at them and Creed ducked back into relatively poor cover as plasma fire rained around him. Abby and Sarah pinned the aliens down as best they could, but the bolts were uncomfortably close now. They were closing in on Creed and Abby couldn’t keep them off forever.

“Grenade!” Sarah yelled and tossed an object at one of the aliens. It roared and leapt out of the way, but instead of exploding, it let out a fine green mist. Some of it got on the alien and it roared in pain, yellow mist dispersing from it’s breathing device.

Sarah lined up a shot on the flailing creature and fired, her laser burning a hole through it’s head. Seeing what had happened, the other aliens stayed out of the mist. What was it? Some kind of acid?

“Suppress them,” Creek ordered. “There’s enough for two. Leave them to me.”

“I’ll get the left one!” She called to Sarah who nodded. Abby fired several quick bursts, all of which missed but forced the alien back into cover without a clear shot. Seizing the chance, Creed leapt over his cover and charged the alien, knife in hand. With little grace he slammed into the alien and with several quick movement, kicked the rifle away and plunged his knife into it’s eye and twisted.

Yellow blood squirted from the alien’s eye socket and it roared and flailed its arms trying to latch onto Creed. The SEAL had positioned himself behind the alien now, effectively using it as a shield as he began firing at the other alien with his pistol. The final alien, having no cover, began running back and was abruptly thrown to the ground by autolaser fire as Patricia advanced, her weapon spewing red bursts of energy.

She kept walking as she fired, reducing the alien’s armor to a ruined mess until it stopped moving. Abby looked back to Creed to see him place his pistol to the whimpering alien’s head.

“Wait.” Patricia called out and he looked at her, yellow blood and guts splattering his helmet.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s still alive,” Mira stated. “We could capture it.”

“Ah.” Creed withdrew his blade from the alien’s head and it collapsed to the ground. “Then he’s all yours.”

“Stun it.” Patricia ordered Mira and she walked forward with her ARC thrower, lowered it at the dying alien and fired. It flexed once, and fell still.

“Abby?” Patricia asked expectantly and Abby walked over and knelt by the alien.

“It’s alive,” she answered slowly, pulling out her med-kit. “But I’m going to have to heal it if we want to bring it in alive.”

“Do it.” Patricia ordered as she began spraying the light blue mist on the alien. “In the meantime-“

“Outsiders!” Mira yelled and all of them ran to cover. Abby peeked out to see two outsiders come charging out of the UFO, not even bothering with cover.

“They’re charging our position!” Abby yelled, realizing what they meant to do. Kill enough XCOM soldiers and they wouldn’t have enough firepower to kill them.

Luckily, they seemed intent on getting to the back line as quickly as possible, so when one of the outsiders charged her, it didn’t anticipate Creed slamming into it. Abby fired a sustained beam and watched it glow a bright orange. Creed added his laser as did Malcom.

A few seconds later the outsider disintegrated and they turned their attention to the last one. It was dodging their blasts and reflecting the energy from the few lasers that hit. It also wasn’t getting the opportunity to fire back.

“Fire as one!” Patricia ordered. “Now!”

Six lasers tore into the outsider, effectively freezing it in place and within seconds, the energy became too much to contain and it shattered.

Silence fell over the battlefield, except for the sound of rushing water.

“I think that’s the last of them,” Patricia said quietly. “The outsiders usually are.”

  _“Killing the outsiders seems to have lifted the interference,”_ the Commander stated. _“We’re not picking up any life signs. Excellent work.”_

Abby smiled. Two major victories in a row. The aliens were no doubt furious at them now.

She hoped this was just the beginning.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Gray Watcher

_Personnel:_

Ram 1 ( _Squad Overseer)_ : Specialist Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 2

Ram 2: Specialist Mira Vauner

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 1

Ram 3: Specialist Abigail Gertrude

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 3

Ram 4: Specialist Anius Creed

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 4

Ram 5: Specialist Malcom Muun

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 1

Ram 6: Private Sarah Liber

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 3

 

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Jason Olgard: Call sign – “Big Sky”

 

_Artifacts Recovered_

-5x Sectoid Corpses (Acceptable Condition)

-1x Sectoid Captive

-1x Alien Sectoid Mech Corpse (Moderate Condition)

-4x Alien Shock Trooper Corpses (Moderate Condition)

-1x Alien Shock Trooper Captive

-45x Alien Weapon Fragments

-200x Alien Alloys (Stripped from UFO)

-2x Alien Power Sources

-4x Alien Computers

-4x Canisters of Unidentified Alien Substance

 

 

 

 

 

 


	31. Research and Engineering III

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

_One Week Later_

“I do wonder what the aliens actually hope to accomplish with these apparent research missions,” the Commander mused, looking down at the holographic UFO Shen had constructed from the wreckage of what he had labeled a ‘Raider’. “They have to be looking for something specific.”

“Earth may have a far more diverse climate than their own,” Van Doorn suggested, peering down at the hologram. “They might be trying to learn how that is possible.”

“Perhaps,” the Commander frowned skeptically. “Though I find it hard to believe that Earth is the only planet in the galaxy with our conditions.”

“I tend to agree and I’m sure quite a few scientists would be interested to know if that’s the case or not,” Van Doorn wondered thoughtfully. “We can make assumptions all we like, but until we create spacecraft of our own, we’ll never be able to prove it or not.”

The Commander snorted. “I think there are things more important than _that_ particular question.”

Van Doorn gave a wry smile. “For people like us, for sure. But I think you have to have a much different mindset to be a scientist. Once something attracts their attention, they won’t stop until they get what they want.”

“Persistence isn’t exclusive to scientists,” the Commander amended. “It’s their tendency to exercise that on the most pointless things possible.”

Van Doorn chuckled for some reason. “I can sympathize.”

The Commander picked up his tablet and began scanning through a report. “So, Saudi Arabia found their missing soldiers.”

“Yes,” Van Doorn recalled. “In a ‘grievous and unprovoked attack.’ They have promised to ‘find the criminals responsible for this heinous crime,’ and ‘punish them to the full extent of the law.’”

The Commander smirked. “How grandiose. The poor King. Whatever shall he do? Never mind that there was clear evidence of alien activity, no, it has to be some country with a grudge against them.”

“In spite of the evidence, or lack thereof,” Van Doorn continued. “They are petitioning the UN to investigate.”

The Commander sighed. “Of course they are,” he blinked his eyes in remembrance. “Didn’t you say that they refused to rejoin the UN?”

“Yes,” Van Doorn answered, a wry grin on his lips. “But I think the good King has severely overestimated himself and he knows it. I’d imagine he wants to boost his image for the populace and gain some protection in case Israel takes advantage.”

“Please don’t tell me the UN is _actually_ considering this?” the Commander asked wearily.

“They don’t have a reason not to,” Van Doorn answered with a shrug. “The more countries in the United Nations, the more their influence spreads. And in times like these, the image of unity is valuable.”

“Ignoring the fact that accepting them is tantamount to supporting an authoritarian dictator.” the Commander reminded him.

Van Doorn pursed his lips. “If the government of a country was important, China and Russia would have been barred from entry as well. We’re both from democracies, thus it is difficult to imagine ever supporting anything we see as tyranny. But remember that not everyone in the world thinks like us.”

“That doesn’t change my point,” the Commander insisted. “Some things should not be supported, even if, or _especially_ if it falls under ‘cultural differences.’”

 Van Doorn appraised the Commander, his face curious. “You really don’t like the United Nations, do you?”

“No,” the Commander shook his head. “I don’t. I know you were part of it for a long time, but that doesn’t change my opinion.”

Van Doorn paused and crossed his arms. “May I ask why? Are you opposed to the idea itself or are there other reasons?”

The Commander gathered his thoughts, this subject was rather touchy for him. “The problem with the United Nations starts at the very idea itself: that we can _ever_ be truly united. With the world as it is now, that is impossible. Their goal of a one world democracy is a fantasy.”

“I don’t believe it’s a fantasy,” Van Doorn countered with a shrug. “It’s a difficult proposition for sure, but as the world becomes more interconnected, I do believe it will happen one day.”

“There are two problems with that assessment,” the Commander refuted flatly. “The first being that the cultural differences between all of them are too great. What is illegal in one country is encouraged in another. Women would be put to death in Saudi Arabia for doing things we do in the West all the time. Journalists critical of the government would find themselves in jail or put to death in countries like North Korea and Russia. We can’t even have consensus about gun rights, abortion, taxes, free enterprise, and trade just in the _countries._ How could there _possibly_ be consensus on a global scale?”

The Commander raised another finger. “Second. There is no enforcement in the United Nations. There is literally no reason for any country to fear any consequence of the arbitrarily decided “rules” established, since the United Nations is too cowardly. They won’t act if anyone breaks international law beside verbally condemn them.”

“Keep in mind those countries that routinely break international law are those that aren’t part of the United Nations in the first place?” Van Doorn reminded him.

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “That almost makes it worse. So as long as they aren’t part of the United Nations, they are free to do whatever?”

Van Doorn scowled. “It’s not as simple as you seem to think it is.”

“Probably not,” the Commander agreed. “I’m not part of that organization. But from what I’ve seen, I can find no reason for it to exist other that for countries to make more public deals with each other. Or it’s even simpler; it’s a power play.”

“That could be applied to _any_ government,” Van Doorn countered. “Just because people are in positions of authority doesn’t automatically mean they are corrupt or wrong.”

Van Doorn looked the Commander in the eye. “Your point on the differing cultural perspectives is an obstacle for sure, but change doesn’t happen overnight. The task of unification will take decades or centuries. It shouldn’t be abandoned simply because it’s difficult. And I’d hesitate for the entire world to adopt Western principles simply because you believe them correct. Imposing authority over other nations is a delicate task and one that can lead to another kind of tyranny.”

“You can’t have it both ways,” the Commander stated. “If you really want an effective global organization, you will have to have an established consensus of rules and laws that transcend cultural standards. Otherwise you have an ineffective wealthy mouthpiece like what exists today.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong there,” Van Doorn agreed, some heat in his voice. “All I’m saying is that multiple perspectives are important. The United Nations _has_ regulations set in place-“

“Then _why_ are they not enforced?” The Commander hissed. “Why did the United Nations not intervene when the Haitian President euthanized his country? Why was Saudi Arabia one of the most influential countries in the UN when their human rights violations broke the UN’s _own_ regulations? Why did the UN not intervene when the Caliphate established itself?”

Van Doorn sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it isn’t.” the Commander practically bit out. “It’s _politics._ The UN is so afraid of losing their own power and offending another country that they don’t act until it’s too late.”

“And what is your solution?” Van Doorn asked wearily, as he waved a hand. “Take over every country that you have issues with? Do you honestly believe that would ever solve _anything_? All it would do is create more instability and chaos. Not to mention that you will never prevent new dictators from rising in their place. Not everything can be solved with violence.”

“To answer your question,” the Commander said coldly. “Yes. It would stabilize eventually. You don’t need to take over a country. Just reduce its power to nothing, make them a speck on the global stage. Look at Saudi Arabia. Once they were one of the most influential country’s in the world. Now they are nothing. Tell me, Van Doorn, do you think the world is better off with a reduced Saudi Arabia?”

“But there may be too high a price,” Van Doorn argued back. “You know how many people died when the Saudi royalty and economy was decimated? Millions. They are only beginning to stabilize _now_ and the people are arguably worse off now. Imagine that times four or five if the UN intervened in _every_ instance of that.”

“And this goes back to the point of an apathetic United Nations,” the Commander sighed. “They either need to enforce their laws or rename themselves to something more appropriate.”

“And just where would you draw the line?” Van Doorn pressed. “North Korea? China? Would you start a world war to bring your brand of justice to the world?”

“That would depend,” the Commander answered slowly and deliberately. “On how committed I actually was to the idea of an _actual_ United Nations with true authority.”

Van Doorn actually looked taken aback. “I see.”

The Commander grimaced. “I’m not sure you do. Perhaps my thinking is too simplistic. I see a problem and I work to solve it. I see people hurt and I find and kill the root cause. Diplomacy only works when both sides are open to it and, quite honestly, shouldn’t be utilized in some cases. I have no sympathy for those who hurt or terrorize others for their own power or amusement. I do what in necessary to bring stability. If it costs countries or people, then so be it.”

Van Doorn looked at him as if realizing something. “For someone who claims to have left the Commander over ideological differences, you sure seem to hold many of the same opinions.”

The Commander was almost tempted to give up the game, but this gave him an opportunity. “At the time, I was. But _this_ ,” he waved his hand around the Situation Room. “Being it command, it’s given me a new perspective. Not to mention actually dealing with the UN has hardly been pleasant. He might have been wrong on some things, but I’m starting to understand his point of view far more now.”

Van Doorn pursed his lips. “Out of curiosity, with what you know now, would you have left his command?”

“No,” the Commander stated bluntly. “I wouldn’t have.”

Van Doorn nodded and sighed. “I appreciate your honesty. I even understand why you would feel that way.” He walked around the holotable and looked down on that map. “The UN needs reform. I agree with you there. But I just don’t think burning everything down and rebuilding is the best, or only, way.”

The Commander walked beside him. “There was one thing I always wondered. Was the United Nations ever going to intervene when the Caliphate expanded?”

Van Doorn didn’t look up. “They would have. Eventually. But we estimated that the Caliphate would collapse within two years at most. No one expected that they would expand beyond Israel and if that did happen…” the General shrugged. “Then action would be taken. The UN didn’t want to get bogged down in a war that they weren’t sure they could win quickly or cleanly.”

The Commander pursed his lips in disgust. “You don’t win a war quickly or cleanly. That only happens in movies and games. People die in war.”

“I know,” Van Doorn sighed. “But the fact of the matter is that civilians generally draw the line at hanging kids on crosses. Like it or not, military tactics are dictated partially by public opinion and public opinion usually frowns on heavy civilian casualties.”

And that right there was why he existed. He received the hatred for doing what was needed so that those in command could look good and blame any unlawful actions on a “rogue element.” Not that he ever minded either. He didn’t care about public opinion. If people hated him, so be it. He knew he was justified and ultimately didn’t disagree with their condemnations.

But all he did was shrug to Van Doorn. “It worked. The war was won and you and the UN came out looking good. A shame that they didn’t earn it.”

“Even if I disagreed with his tactics,” Van Doorn said. “I do admit that without the Commander’s help, it would have taken far longer to secure Syria. I said as much to the UN, though they didn’t really do anything with it.”

“If only both of you had worked together throughout the war,” the Commander mused. “It would probably have ended much quicker.”

Van Doorn let out a chuckle. “Maybe. I guess we’ll never know.”

The Commander walked around to the opposite end of the holotable and faced Van Doorn. “Alright,” he shook his head. “Enough politics. Let’s get back to work.”

Van Doorn nodded in relief. “I couldn’t agree more.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Medical Wards_

Liam groaned as he woke up. By this point he was tired of the small room. Spending a week in here just made him feel lethargic and useless. Hopefully he’d be released sometime soon. He was healthy now and ready to get back to work.

He’d missed quite a lot. Four consecutive UFO assaults all successfully completed was something he’d been rather surprised to hear. Not that he was complaining, but it was something he wished he could have taken part in.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open and Abby stepped through, clothed in her XCOM medical uniform. She gave him a wide smile as she walked beside him. “About time you woke up.”

He gave her a sleepy smile. “That was fast. How did you know I was awake?”

“I have the equipment set to detect any changes in brainwaves,” she explained. “And I only have a couple people so it’s important I keep tabs on them.”

He laid back. “Please tell me I’m leaving soon.”

“Patience,” she smiled. “I’ll get to that.

Well, that sounded promising. “Did anything happen recently?”

She grabbed her tablet. “Not really, well, Luke’s doing alright. Hold still, I need to do some scans on you.”

Abby asked him several basic questions and in the meantime told him some other news like how Luke was doing. It was good to hear that he’d live. The man seemed like a good sort and he was one of the better known people here.

 “I think that wraps everything up,” Abby commented as she finished making notes on her tablet. “I think I remembered everything.”

“Of course I had to get injured then,” Liam grumbled good-naturedly. “Right before we had a string of victories.”

She smirked at him. “Don’t get injured next time and you won’t have to complain.”

He looked up at her. “So, what’s the assessment?”

Abby put the tablet down. “In my professional opinion, I would say another day or two of rest at the very least. You are _technically_ capable of participating on combat missions. But as you’ve been in here for a while, you should get into a normal routine for a least a day or so before you’re fully functional.”

About damn time. He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side. “In that case, I’d better get up.”

She sighed. “I figured you would say that,” she pulled out a piece of paper and pen and handed it to him. “Sign here. Discharge forms.”

He took it and signed the paper. “Don’t look so enthused,” he teased as he handed it back.

She shot him a disapproving look. “I now know why doctors hate soldiers. You always push yourselves when you don’t need too.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you wouldn’t do the same?”

“Point taken,” she admitted, letting out a grin. “But seriously, I’m glad you’re ok now. Please try to stay that way.”

“Don’t worry,” he promised as he grabbed his things. “I’ll do my best.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of Intelligence Director Zhang_

The Commander looked at the green lines of code on the computer in front of him. The glyphs and symbols were clearly alien, but even had they not been, he would still have probably not known what was going on. Computer programming was not a field in which he had much experience.

He looked at Zhang. “What am I looking at here?”

“That,” Zhang answered, crossing his arms. “Is the code within the alien transmitter.”

The Commander sighed and straightened up. “I assumed that,” he told the man wearily. “Do you know what it means?”

“Not entirely,” Zhang admitted. “But from what my team has been able to decipher, we’re fairly confident that it’s tied to the alien navigational systems.”

The Commander frowned. It was progress, for sure. But he wasn’t sure how useful it was yet. “Can we use this?”

“Possibly,” Zhang answered, closing the laptop. “We’ve tested the machine. It does emit a signal of some kind. It could be used as a distraction in case of an attack.”

“We couldn’t use this to shut down their systems?” the Commander asked, pursing his lips.

Zhang shrugged. “If we understood the code within this, possibly. But as it stands now, this is more useful for learning the syntax of the language as opposed to more practical applications.”

Well, at least it wasn’t completely useless. But that would take operatives out of the picture while they cracked the alien code. The transmitter could be useful if another alien battleship appeared, but that would probably only work once before they learned what was happening.

“Have your people copied what’s inside?” He asked Zhang with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Zhang nodded. “Once we were able to see the code, we made several backups.”

“Estimation,” the Commander continued, facing him intently. “How long do you estimate it would take to translate this?”

Zhang frowned as he pondered that. “Unknown. With the team on it now, a couple months, perhaps? For it to be completely translated, that is.”

The Commander shook his head. “That’s too long. We may need those agents elsewhere.”

“I know,” Zhang confirmed grimly. “You have an idea?”

“Only one,” the Commander grimaced. “And it’s risky. We give the code to our allies and see if they can decode it.”

“To everyone?” Zhang questioned, frowning. “Or specific countries?”

“Not everyone,” the Commander amended. “Israel and Germany, for sure. I’d prefer to give it to the United States also, as they are on par with Israel in terms of technology.”

“But that would mean the Council would know,” Zhang mused. “Not to mention it would appear like favoritism.”

“I don’t want to give them any more ammo against me,” the Commander said wearily. “However, it may be needed.”

“You could remove the favoritism argument by including another nation,” Zhang pointed out. “China would be one, possibly Japan as well.”

“I don’t trust China,” the Commander stated bluntly. “I won’t give them any advantage they could use against me or anyone else. However…” he paused. “Japan. That might work, though it might be viewed as a token gesture.”

“Better than a favoritism one,” Zhang reminded him. “And you get the United States working on the code.”

“The biggest concern for me,” the Commander admitted, his lips pursed in thought. “Is that if one of them breaks the code before us, they’ll have control of the information. If Japan decides to give what they discover to the UN, they might manipulate the results when they give it back to us and we’ll not know.”

Zhang leaned back against the wall. “Nothing is without risk. But in this case I think it is worth it. All that we really need for this is the syntax. Once we have that, we’ll be able to decode any alien computer we find. There is little that the UN can do to manipulate that. The only issues may be efficiency, and that is a hurdle we can overcome.”

That did make sense, and he knew this was not his area of expertise. If Zhang believed that the benefits outweighed the downsides, he was inclined to believe him. He nodded at Zhang. “Then do it. But discreetly, if you could.”

Zhang actually smirked. “The Council still doesn’t know we have an Intelligence division. I intend to keep it that way.”

“Aside from the transponder,” the Commander continued, looking down at his tablet. “Is there anything else to report?”

“I’ve completed my contribution to Atlas,” Zhang informed him, picking up his own tablet. “I’ll send it to you now.”

“Excellent.” The Commander nodded as he received the document. “Van Doorn has refined some of my own contributions. I’m pleased with how this is turning out.”

“Let’s hope we never have to use it.” Zhang stated grimly.

“Anything new in Israel?” The Commander asked.

“No,” Zhang answered as he tapped on his tablet. “But I have been tracking something interesting. You remember those shell companies that were funneling money to Corinna?”

“That woman we captured?” the Commander recalled. “Yes. What of them?”

“I’m not sure,” Zhang admitted, sounding almost confused. “They were operating normally and a few days ago, they all declared bankruptcy and shut down.”

The Commander frowned. “They must have learned someone was on to them.”

“EXALT,” Zhang remembered. “Perhaps. That organization is a potential problem since we don’t know their capabilities. They apparently have enough influence to affect a country, but every single intelligence agency I’ve looked into dismisses them as a myth.”

“Which is clearly untrue,” the Commander muttered. “Or even if they are not this ‘EXALT’ they are clearly well organized and funded. The biggest issue is that we don’t know their agenda.”

“To stop us?” Zhang suggested. “The operative we captured implied as much.”

“But we haven’t encountered them for months,” the Commander reminded him. “I’d think that they would have made some kind of move if they were actively moving to destroy me, or XCOM.”

“Perhaps we foiled their plans in Germany too well,” Zhang suggested. “Or they’ve been working somewhere else. I’m not comfortable with unknowns.”

“They can’t hide forever,” the Commander shrugged. “Sooner or later, they’ll have to make a move. Probably soon if they’re shutting down companies.”

“I’ll be watching,” Zhang nodded earnestly. “In the meantime, I have agents to plant and countries to contact.”

“I’ll leave you too it,” the inclined his head in thanks. “Good luck.”

Zhang saluted him. “You as well, Commander.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Medical Wards_

“He should be waking up soon.” Abby told her as she fiddled with some medical equipment. Mira stood to the side, trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible. Abby had called her down nearly a half-hour ago since she was preparing to take him out of the induced coma.

He still looked bad, but slightly healthier than when she’d seen him last. The breathing tube had been removed and his chest rose and fell naturally. There were more wires and tubes still hooked up to him than she was comfortable with, but she supposed it was better than the alternative.

“You can sit,” Abby told her, placing a chair beside her. “I don’t know how long it’ll take him to come out of it.”

“Estimation?” Mira asked.

“With what he was on?” Abby chuckled. “Half-hour or more. I suppose I didn’t think of that before calling you down.”

Mira shook her head. “No need. I wanted to come down.”

Abby smiled at her. “Well, I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

Mira sat down on the chair as prepared herself to wait. Almost without thinking, she reached over with her gloved hand and grasped Luke’s limp one and kept a firm grip. She didn’t fail to notice Abby observing her with interest.

“May I ask a personal question?” She asked tentatively. Mira internally sighed, guessing what this was going to be about.

“If you insist.”

 Abby motioned vaguely at her face. “Your…injuries. Israel isn’t behind on medical tech. Why didn’t you get skin grafts or use cell regeneration therapy?”

An interesting question. At least it wasn’t one she was expecting. But that did deserve a thought out answer, she looked up as she considered her response. “The largest reason was that it was impossible. The skin was too damaged and weathered to effectively put in skin grafts. I traveled through a desert before I was recovered. You can imagine the damage that would do.”

Abby blinked. “You went through a desert? In your condition?”

The corners of her lips turned under her hood. “I was captured. After the torture failed, they apparently gave up on me. I had to escape somehow and I did. Didn’t say it was easy.”

“Still…” Abby shook her head. “That’s almost unbelievable.”

“The doctors felt the same way,” Mira mused. “After I told the story, most of them were convinced that the hand of God had been on me, or something.”

“Do you agree?” Abby asked curiously as she tilted her head. “Or do you think it was luck?”

Mira snorted. “In my experience, luck is what people say when they don’t consider all the factors. No, it was not luck. Divine intervention? I don’t know. If the God was keeping me alive somehow, I certainly didn’t know it.” Mira waved her free hand for emphasis. “I just kept going. I wanted to die, several times, but at the same time, I wanted to live.” She trailed off. “I don’t know how I really survived. But I never let go of what I learned about myself that day.”

There was silence in the room for a few seconds. “I suppose if I really wanted it, my face might be able to be fixed. It would never be the same, but I wouldn’t have to live in constant pain.” Mira looked the young surgeon in the eye. “But I wanted to keep it. It serves as a good reminder for me, of what I am capable of. Not to mention it’s come in handy several times.”

“I can imagine,” Abby commented. “I suppose that answers my question.”

Mira shrugged. “Was it what you were expecting?”

“Sort of,” Abby answered slowly, biting her lower lip. “Though it is difficult to make expectations since I don’t know you well to begin with.”

Mira gave a small smile. “I don’t exactly socialize.”

Now Abby had to smile. Or it was closer to a smirk. “Except with certain people, I see.” She teased.

Mira almost sighed. She wasn’t amused at her tone, nor did she have energy to misdirect her at the moment. Spy games were exhausting and time intensive, and she had other things to concentrate on. “If you have something to say, say it.”

“Sorry,” Abby raised her hand in apology. “But, well, you’re not as subtle as you think you are. In fact, you’re about as subtle as Patricia.”

“Gertrude,” Mira asked slowly. “Please shut up.”

“Yes, sir,” Abby mocked lightly. “No need to get so defensive. I think it’s sweet.”

Mira gritted her teeth. That was not a word she had ever associated with herself in her entire life. Nor did she see where it fit in here. At least Abby hadn’t used _cute_. She might have thrown her out if she had.

“Please don’t use that word to describe me,” Mira sighed. “It’s not an accurate description at all.”

Abby chuckled. “Speak for yourself. But as you wish-Oh, hold on. I think he’s waking up.“

Mira quickly stood and Abby began adjusting gears on the machines while quickly glancing over at Luke. A few minutes later, Luke sleepily opened his eyes and began looking around.

“He’ll be disoriented for a few minutes,” Abby told her as she peered at him. “It’ll be like being underwater initially, sound will be muffled and washed out. It’ll clear in a minute.”

Luke coughed and alternated looking between both of them. “What did I miss?” He asked groggily.

“Mira will explain once you’re a little more awake,” Abby told him cheerfully. “In the meantime, you’re very lucky to be alive.”

“The others,” Luke managed. “Are they-“

“They’re alive,” Abby assured him. “The mission was a success, in no small part to you.”

“You were an idiot.” Mira snapped at him, finally glad to get to tell him that. “What were you _thinking_?”

Abby shot an angry glare her direction that said _“Not now.”_ But she really didn’t care. If he was strong enough to wake up, he could certainly handle some criticism. Luke simply let out a broken chuckle. “I suppose I wasn’t. Not rationally at any rate,” he looked into her eyes. “But I’m very glad to see you, Mira.” He gave her hand a squeeze.

She glared at him under her hood. That was not going to dissuade her. “You took a foolish risk and almost got yourself killed along with another. Nobility will get you killed next time.”

“What she’s trying to say,” Abby interjected. “Is that she was worried about you.”

Mira was very close to throwing the woman out. “Don’t twist my words, Gertrude. I’m pointing out a dangerous tactic he used, personal feeling have nothing to do with it.”

Luke gave her a wry smile. “Well, I’ll do my best to avoid that next time.” He blinked rapidly several times. “I feel very tired,” he said, looked at Abby. “Is that normal…”

“Yes,” she assured him. “Aftereffects of the drug. One last rest should purge them and you’ll be on normal sleep cycles again.”

“Alright….” He managed as he fell back. “Speak to you later…Mira…” He fell asleep soon after. Abby turned to her and began using her tablet.

“He’ll probably wake up in a few hours. Since I know you’ll come in anyway, I’m clearing you to visit him in advance.”

“Appreciated,” Mira answered neutrally. “And don’t interrupt us.”

Abby walked past her and tapped her a couple times on the shoulder. “Wouldn’t dream of it. You’ve got some things to discuss.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Engineering Bay_

The doors to the Engineering Bay hissed open and the Commander, arms clasped behind his back, walked into the busting area. The machines and robots were quiet for now, but small groups of engineers and technicians were crowded together in groups.

On the tables were the bodies of the mechanical Floaters and disks. He hoped Shen’s team had made some progress on the dismantling, he was curious as to how they worked. But what grabbed his attention immediately were several suits of armor that were lying on a workbench.

Not seeing Shen immediately, the Commander walked over there. On closer inspection, it appeared to be two different variations of the same improved body armor the soldiers had been using. The suit on the left looked far less bulky than the original, all the non-armored sleeves and gaps appeared to incorporate some sort of alloy weave. A vast improvement.

In contract, the other suit appeared to be based on the armor that Shen had designed for him. There wasn’t a body part that was not armored in some way, minus the joints, and even those had that alloy weave. The armor plate themselves were thicker than he remembered and no doubt added to the weight of the suit as a whole.

“I figured that the soldiers should have the option,” Shen commented as he walked up. “You were right, there are different preferences. Some prefer mobility over protection. I did my best to ensure each group has a viable option.”

“I like it,” the Commander inclined his head. “I assume that the lighter armored one is the one emphasizing mobility.”

“The Phalanx armor,” Shen nodded. “Yes. It was a challenge to reduce the weight while not sacrificing protection, but thanks to incorporating the alien alloys into the ceramic plating, it should serve just as well as the armor now.”

“Well,” the Commander grinned, picking up the suit. “Time to test it.”

“I figured you would say that,” Shen sighed. “I don’t suppose you’d change your mind if I told you I’d tested it?”

“Afraid not,” the Commander answered as he pulled on the gauntlets. “I’m working with the assumption that I’ll be taking the field again one day, and I’d rather know for certain this’ll work.”

“Very well,” Shen nodded in resignation. The Commander finished donning the armor, pleased with how much more flexibility he had. Not that he disliked the feeling of invincibility, but if a rocket was coming his way, he’d much prefer to dodge it rather than taking it. Flipping the helmet in his hands, he placed it on his head and followed Shen to the practice range.

“How long have you stress tested it?” He asked as they walked.

“Five seconds, sustained laser,” Shen answered, pointing to a laser rifle by the range. “I figured that was sufficient.”

“Make it seven,” the Commander ordered as he walked past. “Their plasma weapons are still more powerful.”

Taking a stance at the end of the range, he gave Shen a thumbs up. “Fire when ready!” he called. Shen muttered something to himself, probably cursing him, and raised the rifle. A blazing laser beam burst out and began boring into the chrome armor. Despite his experience, it was difficult not to flinch or dodge when the laser struck him. It was odd, he didn’t feel any impact.

The beam stopped and the Commander looked down to see a nice hole in the center of the armor. He gingerly touched it and determined that a few more seconds would have probably bored through. But it was sufficient.

“Good job!” He called out to Shen as he walked back. “Didn’t even break the armor.”

Shen put the rifle back on the rack. “Should I expect another test with the Carapace Armor?”

Was that what he was calling the other suit? “No,” he shook his head. “It’s clearly more armored than this. I don’t have concerns about that.”

Shen nodded in relief. “In that case, follow me,” he turned away and began walking toward another table. “I have some new projects to show you.” Curiosity piqued, the Commander followed him until they arrived at another table.

On this one was yet another suit of armor, but this appeared to be armored around the chest, with the alloy weave covering the rest. The gauntlets had several wires connected to the suit itself, and on those was some kind of device.

“What is this?” He asked Shen, facing him.

Shen picked up the gauntlet and put it on. “This,” he answered while aiming his wrist at a dummy. “Is the Kestrel Armor.” He fired a hook of some kind from the gauntlet which embedded itself in the dummy. Pressing a button on the gauntlet, the grappling hook retracted, pulling the dummy to the ground with a crash.

The Commander grinned. “That could be very useful.”

“It’s difficult striking a balance between protection and weight,” Shen admitted, taking the gauntlet off. “But this proof-of-concept works well. I’m not sure if you want to deploy it yet, but I can create more if you want.”

The Commander looked down at the armor. As useful as it could be on the battlefield, he didn’t have much confidence in a soldier surviving a plasma blast to it. It was simply too weak for the soldiers. However…”Show this to Zhang,” he told Shen, a glint in his eye. “I think his operatives would find this more useful than my soldiers.”

“I’ll do that, Commander,” Shen promised. “I’ll also work to improve the armor itself.”

“Good to hear,” the Commander nodded. “Anything else to show?”

Shen waved him to where some of the alien machines and corpses were. “This way.”

As they got closer, the smell of rotting, burned and dead flesh hit him. Most of it was coming from the floater corpses, there wasn’t a single one was wasn’t at least partially disassembled. Blood and bolts littered the table and the Commander frowned at the stench.

“The mechanics here aren’t that as complex as I initially feared,” Shen told him, motioning at the cybernetics on the floater. “The propulsion system isn’t much different than some jetpacks we have today, though greatly miniaturized.”

“How extensive were the augments?” the Commander questioned.

“Invasive,” Shen answered grimly, leaning over an eviscerated floater. “I can only assume that the lower half of the body was removed to make it easier to apply the propulsion system. The rest of the body is infused with cybernetics that appear to be designed for strength and speed.”

“Do you know how they managed to do this?” The Commander continued, looked closely at the machines drilled into the alien’s flesh.

Shen sighed. “Sadly, no. The metal and skin appear to have bonded to some degree, which shouldn’t be possible. I’ve sent over some of the specimens to Vahlen. Perhaps she can learn how they did it.”

“Can we use any of this?”

“I have some ideas for a propulsion system of our own,” Shen answered slowly. “But I’ve not even begun the preliminary stages.”

The Commander nodded and peered closer at the floater’s face. “How much of the brain is augmented?”

“Around half,” Shen answered, frowning. “However, most of it is related to life support systems and breathing apparatuses.”

The beginnings of an idea began forming in the Commander’s mind. “Could it be hacked?”

Shen blinked. “As it stands now…I highly doubt it. Anything you want to insert would have to be uploaded manually. I’m not sure it has wireless capabilities.”

Hmm. Another weakness he might be able to use. He motioned at the disk. “Anything from that?”

“The cyberdisk?” Shen asked, looking back. “We’re still working on it. It’s a far more complex machine than the floater, as well as also having a biological component. I expect it will take a few more days to complete our disassembly.”

Cyberdisk. Well, it was better than using the generic ‘disk’ label. All in all though, this had been a very productive meeting. He inclined his head in thanks. “Excellent job, Shen.”

“Yes, Commander,” he answered. “Regardless of our differences, we both want to ensure our soldiers are as prepared as possible.”

“Agreed,” the Commander nodded. “And I do appreciate your input Shen, even if I disagree with it occasionally.”

Shen shrugged. “I don’t think we’ll ever fully agree on what direction this war should take, Commander. But rest assured that I’ll still work with you.”

That was a relief. And oddly enough, he believed him. Shen was a genuine man, and wasn’t prone to lying. He wouldn’t abuse that trust. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I do have a request,” Shen continued, fiddling with his glasses.

“What is it?”

Shen hesitated. “Would you be opposed to having someone else stay here?”

The Commander raised an eyebrow. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“My daughter,” Shen clarified. “With the alien attacks likely to hit larger cities, I’m worried about her. I think she’d be safer here.”

Ah, right. He remembered now. Lily Shen, he’d read that he’d had a daughter but not given it much thought. “How old is she?” He asked.

“Fifteen,” Shen answered. “I’d be sure to keep her out of the way. You won’t even know she’s here.”

“Where is she now?” the Commander asked.

“A boarding school in San Francisco,” Shen answered. “She transferred last year.”

The Commander nodded. He didn’t see much reason to refuse, so long as the kid stayed out of the way. One person wouldn’t strain their resources, especially a young girl. “You can bring her here.” The Commander told him. “Speak with Bradford to make the arrangements.”

Shen let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Don’t mention it,” the Commander waved a hand. “I know what it’s like to worry about your family.” He pursed his lips as he realized what he said. Not wanting to deal with questions, he inclined his head toward Shen. “Excellent work, Shen. I’ll be sure to use it well.” With that, he turned on his heel and made way for the exit.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Training Area_

Three quick strikes. One, two three.

Patricia alternated hands as she struck the training dummy, then repeated it again. Than again. Instead of her usual venting, this time she was actually trying to improve her technique. And the best way was by repetition.

Carmelita had showed her some starting exercises, and she’d happily taken them and had spent the last hour working. They weren’t hard, she still felt as fresh as when she started. Always training in armor apparently paid off by increasing her stamina far beyond what was normal.

“Not bad.” Patricia ignored the voice initially, then paused after she finished her sequence and looked over to see the SEAL, Anius Creed. He was leaning against the wall with a smug grin on his face.

“Thanks?” She answered hesitantly, not sure he meant it in a sarcastic way or not.

“I would have thought you were beyond the basics,” he commented. “This doesn’t seem particularly new to you.”

She scowled. “It’s not. I’m improving my technique. Not skill.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really. Because what you’re doing isn’t much more than beginner level.”

She turned to him slowly. “What do you want?” She demanded icily.

He tossed something at her which she caught easily. It was a training mask. “I want to see how good you actually are.” He explained. “It might give me a challenge. Surprise me, Trask.”

Well fine. If he wanted a fight she was more than happy to give it to him. Someone needed to knock the arrogant SEAL down a notch. “Challenge accepted,” she declared, putting the mask on. “It’ll be a pleasure to take you down.”

“I assume we’re doing this in armor then?” He asked looking her up and down.

“Unless that’s too difficult,” she amended sweetly. “I can always take it off.”

“Nah,” he waved a hand with a smile. “I’m perfectly fine with that. You look better with it on anyway.”

Oh, how clever of him. How unfortunate that she knew exactly what that little comment was intended to do. It was nothing but words to throw her off, a rather transparent attempt at getting in her head. She let out a smile and threw back her hair dramatically. Two could play this game. “Why, thanks you,” she told him in a higher tone than normal. “That’s _very_ kind of you.”

Creed smirked as he strapped his armor on. “Sarcasm, huh. Cute.”

“Do you tell that to all the women?” She asked as she walked onto the training mat.

He pulled on his gauntlets. “Only those who I compete with.”

Patricia crossed her arms. “I am so very honored.”

Creed chuckled infuriatingly as he made some final adjustments. “You really should be. That list is pretty small.”

She cocked her head at him. “You have a very high opinion of yourself.”

“I _earned_ my high opinion of myself,” Creed corrected. “Why should I not be proud of it?”

“Because it makes you look like an arrogant prick?” Patricia suggested.

“I don’t believe in false modesty,” Creed said confidently as he pulled the mask over his face and joined her on the mat. “Neither should you. Don’t hide your strengths to make others feel better. Now!” he clapped his hands together and formed fists. “Are you ready?”

“When you are.” She responded, raising her own fists.

They began circling each other, each reluctant to make the first move. Patricia appraised the man. All traces of humor or goodwill were gone from his face, instead were the hardened eyes of a man ready to win. His movements were calm and relaxed, but that was just a front. It had to be.

Creed made the first move and dashed toward her, fists flying at an incredible speed. She barely raised her arms to block them and didn’t manage to stop three swings from striking her chest and helmet. She ducked under her blows and attempted to strike his midsection. But he’d anticipated that and drilled his knee into her head and she stumbled back, blinking rapidly.

He didn’t seem rushed. He just paced back and forth, waiting for her to strike next. Alright, he was fast. Good to get that established. She then charged him again, unleashing a series of blows which he dodged and blocked with worrying ease. On her last swing, he didn’t even block, just moved his head to the side and grabbed her arm.

She immediately pulled back and swung at his face with the other which he’d anticipated as well and grabbed her other arm. Trapped she swung her legs up and kicked him in the chest. Once she’d left the ground, he let go, letting her unceremoniously fall to the ground.

The armor had absorbed most of the blows so far, but it was now getting heavier. She scrambled back in case he followed up with an attack but it never came. Scrambling to her feet, she looked over to see him still relaxed and pacing. She scowled. That confirmed it, he was just toying with her. She’d had the suspicion she was outmatched, and him not taking advantage of her vulnerabilities was the last straw. She could handle losing, but indifference was something she wouldn’t accept.

As she circled him, she thought of her strengths. He outmatched her on technique, skill and experience. He would probably be able to block any combination she threw. She couldn’t wear him down, his stamina was likely equal to hers, if not greater. What was his weakness?

She wasn’t the best close combat specialist, she knew that. But she’d had a few victories against arguably better people. Each time, she’d forgone technique in favor of pure brute force. Which _might_ be effective since he was probably expecting some sort of choreographed attack. But even if that did surprise him, he was bigger and stronger. Which meant when she struck, it had to be _final_.

And the only chance of that happening was tapping into her anger. It was easy to do after losing a comrade, but not something she tended to try often. But as she thought more and more, there was plenty of material to rile her up. Her injuries from the outsiders, the attacks on Germany, Creed’s own arrogance and irritability.

The anger wasn’t gone. She’d just suppressed it and focusing on it now forced her into a loop of growing rage. She brought up all the images she’d seen of the slaughtered civilians, Shawn’s violent death, the near squad wipe in Haiti. The sound around her became muted as she entered a trance for the first time in what felt like ages.

The edges of her vision were tinged red and her world focused down to the man in front of her. One arrogant, irritating, smiling man. She began slowly advancing toward him, not caring how prepared he was for her. He threw what was seemed like a half-hearted punch at her and she grabbed the arm and yanked down while simultaneously throwing another fist at his face.

It collided and he stumbled back, and attempted to defend himself as she rained hard, deliberate blows on him. He blocked them, slow as they were, so she just grabbed his wrists and slammed her helmet into his. Backing up quickly before she could follow up, he reappraised her as she just kept walking.

Now he threw some punches at her. She didn’t even try blocking them, she barely felt them as they bounced off her armor. Quick as a snake, she jammed her fingers in his mask and twisted. His head jerked to the side, but he compensated by spinning around and pulling her arm over his shoulder.

She scowled and spun backwards, free arm extended, hoping her forearm would slam into his face. He ducked, let go of her arm and swept his leg underneath hers, tripping her up and she tumbled to the ground.

She threw herself back up with a growl but now he was on the offensive. He threw a fist towards her and she caught it in her palm and the struggle between them began. No matter how much extra strength her anger gave, she was still outmatched. He thrust his arm in and hooked his fingers in her armor and forced her down.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed back with everything she had, but ended up slowly but surely forcing her to the ground. Sinking to on knee, she coiled up for one final push and right at the breaking point, she pushed up with a shout. The push forced him to take several steps back and allowed her to regain her footing. But that last push had drained her.

Slowly losing her speed, she raised her fists as he came at her again. Cutting through her feeble defenses, he grabbed her by the armor and slammed her to the ground, not even letting her get an attempted swing. On the ground, he rolled her onto her stomach which she tried stopping with a few kicks, but at this point she was too weak to stop him.

Placing a knee in the small of her back, he hooked his finger in her mask and hair and pulled up. “I win.” He declared.

 She scowled. There was no point in continuing this. “I concede.” He immediately let her go and she stood up, shaking herself to regain feeling.

“You put up a good fight,” Creed nodded respectfully, and this time seemed to mean it. “I haven’t fought someone like you in a long time.”

“Someone like who?” She asked as she took a long drink.

“An untrained, yet skilled person,” he answered, looking at her. “Mostly self-taught, correct?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “Nothing formal.”

“Anger serves as a backup,” he advised. “But it’s no substitute for technique.”

She scowled. “Which I was working on, _before_ you showed up.”

He shook his head. “You’re well past that and wasting your time. There’s no need to practice stuff you instinctively know and will never use. If you like, I can show you some things that will _actually_ improve your skills.”

She eyed him. True, he still struck her as an arrogant and prideful person. But he clearly knew what he was talking about. Perhaps she could learn something. If only to beat him one day. “Alright,” she nodded at him. “Show me what you know.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

“Mexico will be covered in the next couple days.” Bradford assured him as they both looked at the map of the world.

The Commander nodded in satisfaction. “North America is secure.”

“Unless the aliens shoot down one of the satellites,” Bradford amended quickly. “However, we’ll be able to detect them before that happens.”

“We’ll need more Ravens,” the Commander stated. “How soon can we get them?”

Bradford consulted his tablet. “Two, three days.” He frowned as he looked at the map. “We should really focus on upgrading our fighters. Especially if the aliens keep sending more advanced UFOs. Otherwise we’ll just keep losing more interceptors.”

“Good point,” the Commander acknowledged. “Once Shen finishes his current projects, I’ll have him upgrade our aircraft.”

“Then our next major decision,” Bradford continued. “Where to expand?”

“What are our options?” The Commander asked, glancing over at him.

Bradford handed him the tablet. “I’ve been in contact with the Defense Minister. We could set up an XCOM controlled airstrip, effectively allowing us to effectively protect Europe. Israel has also offered to support and XCOM airstrip.”

“Israel might be suited for Africa,” the Commander mused as he looked on the map. “That effectively takes care of Europe and Africa. That leaves Asia and South America.”

“What about Australia?” Bradford asked.

“Not worth dedicating an airstrip,” the Commander shook his head. “Ideally, Japan would be where the Asian airstrip would be, allowing a reasonable response over Australia if needed.”

“I could petition the Council,” Bradford suggested. “I doubt they would oppose it.”

“They’ll want oversight,” the Commander reminded him and shrugged. “You can make the attempt, but I would suggest either going to Japan directly or finding another option.”

“Are there any potential allies in the region?” Bradford asked as he peered on the map. “Most of the major ones are part of the Council.”

“South Korea,” the Commander mused. “But that’s probably an area we want to stay out of for now.”

“Yes,” Bradford agreed emphatically. “We don’t need to insert ourselves in there. No one would come out looking good.”

 “Back to expansion,” the Commander turned away from the screen and walked to the holotable where Europe was displayed. “I’m thinking we begin covering Europe. Make arrangements with the Defense Minister.”

“Will do, Commander.” Bradford nodded. “I’m sure the Council will be happy to hear that.”

“This should assuage them for a while,” the Commander agreed. “How are panic levels?”

Bradford tapped his tablet and the bars displaying the approximate panic levels appeared. “Europe is stabilizing, but there’s still a lingering fear of alien attacks. Africa and South America are fine for the moment.”

“Asia appears mixed,” the Commander noted. “China and Japan are above normal.”

“Part of that can probably be attributed to a larger population,” Bradford suggested. “Even if it’s only a portion, China has a larger population than most countries combined.”

The Commander frowned. “Keep an eye on that.”

“If I may, I have an idea.” Bradford suggested and handed him his tablet with a video displayed. Taking it, the Commander pressed play and watched a clearly edited video of XCOM soldiers shooting several sectoids. The footage was grainy and clearly reduced in quality, but the Commander got the general idea.

“You want to release these?” He asked, handing the tablet back.

“Leak them,” Bradford amended with a small smile. “Accidentally, of course.”

“A propaganda campaign would be useful,” the Commander mused. “But here’s a better idea. Release the entire tapes, audio excluded, of course, and take out the low quality effect. It looks fake and people will be more suspicious.”

“If we want these to go viral, won’t the edited versions work better?” Bradford asked.

“Trust me, the media will jump all over this,” the Commander assured him, tapping on the holotable. “They’ll do all the editing for us. I’m sure you could find a free-information hacker group or anti-surveillance website to leak the videos.”

Bradford nodded. “I have a few ideas. Zhang would probably be able to distribute these more discretely, but I’ll choose the videos to release.”

“Good,” the Commander nodded. “I trust you’ll use good ones.”

“I have one more thing,” Bradford added, glancing down at his tablet. “I’ve begun making inquiries into transferring death row prisoners.”

“And?” the Commander prodded, raising an eyebrow.

“Short answer, it’s going to be more difficult than we thought,” Bradford told him grimly. “We’ve got human rights organizations watching these people for any signs of the courts screwing up. Not to mention some of the criminals themselves are rather infamous.”

“Ideas?” the Commander asked, before he added his own.

“To maintain a low profile, we’ll have to be very selective of who we choose,” Bradford explained. “Preferably someone without family, friends, a loner and someone whose crime isn’t large, but enough to warrant execution. I would also add that we not take more than one inmate per prison.”

“Specific,” the Commander agreed. “But I think it’s doable. I doubt the courts will refuse a request from the United Nations. I suppose this will make it difficult to acquire female subjects.”

“Undoubtable,” Bradford agreed. “However, we could possibly bypass the US courts altogether. Would Germany or Israel be willing to provide what we need?”

That was a good point, except it probably wouldn’t happen. “Germany doesn’t have the death penalty,” he informed Bradford. “And Israel rarely utilizes the capital punishment. Sadly, the United States is the best option.”

“I’ll make some inquires anyway,” Bradford shrugged. “It would certainly be easier than messing with the United States.”

“I would assume you would have better luck in the more conservative states,” the Commander suggested. “Texas or Wisconsion would be a good start.”

“I’ve got several inquiries lined up,” Bradford assured him. “I suppose I should get to work.”

The Commander inclined his head in thanks. “Well done, Bradford. I’ll check in soon.” Bradford saluted him and exited the room, leaving the Commander looking over a map of the world.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Medical Ward_

Abby leaned against the wall outside her small office. She let out a small groan as her head hit the cold wall. Paperwork sucked, and after filling it out for a few hours, she would have been content to burn that little room to the ground. But it was done now and she could rest.

Well, until the next urgent mission.

She rubbed her eyes. Well, best get some rest while she was able. It had been a busy few days. Pushing herself up from the wall, she walked to the door and exited the Medical Ward. Her staff was competent and could keep everyone alive without her. In the meantime, she felt she deserved a break.

“Ah, miss Gertrude.” She turned to see Zhang walk towards her, wearing black military fatigues with the XCOM logo emblazoned on the upper right chest. She sincerely hoped something hadn’t come up.

“Director Zhang,” she greeted cordially. “It’s been a while.”

“Agreed,” he nodded. “Am I interrupting you?”

She sighed. “No, I was just leaving.”

“I promise not to take much of your time,” Zhang promised and walked up to her. Abby shrugged.

“We might as well keep walking,” she suggested. “You can tell me what you want on the way.”

“Very well,” Zhang agreed and they began walking down the hallway. “You’ve been busy recently.”

She chuckled. “Don’t remind me. Between surgery and fighting, I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”

“I know the feeling,” Zhang empathized. “But we all do what is needed.”

“What about you?” she asked. “What secretive things is XCOM Intelligence up to?”

He cracked a smile. “A few covert operations here and there, if we’re lucky, we might break the alien code soon.”

Abby’s eyes widened. “That’s great!”

“Don’t get excited,” Zhang cautioned, raising a hand. “This is likely to take at least a month. But it’s progress. But aside from that, things have been relatively quiet.”

“Is that good or bad?” She asked, looking at him.

He scratched his beard. “Both. The enemy is quiet, but that means we don’t know what they’re doing. That will hopefully change in the coming days.” He shook his head. “But that is not why I wanted to speak to you. If you wish, I’ve cleared you to transfer to XCOM Intelligence.”

She almost tripped. He’d actually done it. She coughed in disbelief. “I’m…flattered. But…seriously, why me?”

“You’re intelligent, stable, loyal, adaptable and good with people,” Zhang listed off. “You might not have official training, but that could easily be arranged and I think you’d pick it up quickly.”

“But I’m the chief surgeon here,” she reminded him. “I don’t think I could manage XCOM Intelligence and that at the same time.”

“Unlikely,” Zhang agreed. “When you’re here, you can assume your position. But I have several qualified replacements lined up. You needn’t worry about people dying without you.”

“Let’s say I agree,” she said. “Who would possibly, or even want to, train me? Someone who has less than a year of military experience.”

Zhang actually looked amused. “It just so happens that someone has volunteered to be your handler if you decide to transfer. She seemed excited about it, in fact.”

Abby frowned. “Who?”

“Ruth Shira,” Zhang told her. “I highly doubt you’ve met her, but that’s who volunteered. She’s one of my best agents.”

“Why would she want that?” Abby asked, still confused.

“Because that was her position before she became a Kidon agent,” Zhang explained, sounding amused. “I think she misses teaching.”

“She’s a Kidon agent?” Abby repeated incredulously. “I thought Mira was the only one.”

“The Kidon are normally an Intelligence branch,” Zhang clarified. “Several are working in XCOM Intelligence. Mira is an exception.”

Abby shook her head, thoughts whirling. Look…” she began hesitantly. “I’m really flattered, seriously. But well, I need to think this over,” she looked up at him. “I can do that, right?”

He gave a single nod. “Certainly. It’s not a decision to make lightly. Talk it over with friends. However,” he paused. “I’d prefer an answer within the next few weeks. Ruth is on assignment now so even if you accepted now, you wouldn’t start formally until she gets back.”

Abby sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

Zhang saluted her. “A pleasure, Miss Gertrude. I hope to work with you soon.” With that he walked off, leaving her with quite possibly the hardest decision of her life.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Research Labs_

The glass doors hissed open and the Commander strode through, now accustomed to the sterile environment. The scientists were all at various stations and computers, each doing individual work, none of them in groups this time.

“Commander!” He hear Vahlen call out and he turned to see her walking up smiling.

A smile of his own grew on his face and he inclined his head in greeting. “Vahlen, nice to see you.”

She motioned him over. “We’ve completed several of the autopsies. I think you’ll be very interested in the results.” Both of them walked over to where the corpse of one of the thin men was.

“Find anything interesting?” He asked, looking over at her.

She raked her hair back with her fingers. “Where to begin? Yes. Very much so.”

“Go through the list.” He suggested.

She nodded and handed him a tablet. “Very well then, first thing is that the genetic malleability of this particular species was _far_ greater than we initially assumed.”

He took once glance at the complex gene sequencing on the screen and took her hand and gently placed the tablet back in it. “Vahlen, as much as I appreciate you showing your work, I have no clue how to understand any of this.”

“Oh,” her eyes widened. “Apologies, Commander.”

“Don’t apologize,” he quickly reassured. “But, well, don’t expect me to follow any of that. Anyway, define exactly _how_ much greater than you assumed.”

“We assumed that this species had to be humanoid as a base,” Vahlen began. “Something that would be doable to make into a credible human form. But from what I’ve learned, I’m not sure that’s the case anymore.”

“So what does that mean?” The Commander asked, not completely following.

“It means that this species could be changed into almost anything it desires,” Vahlen explained excitedly. “Physical attributes can be added and taken away. Fins, fur, it could tailor itself almost any way it wished.”

“Is this just theory?” the Commander asked.

Vahlen motioned him over to a slot in the wall. “I wanted to test it myself,” she continued as she tapped on a keypad in the wall. “However, I needed a live specimen and we just so happened to have one. I introduced some reptilian DNA and this was the result.”

With a hiss the container slid out and the Commander saw one of the thin men lying on the small sheet, apparently normal as ever. “Look at the hand.” Vahlen pointed and the Commander’s eyebrow shot up. The right hand had turned green and scales covered the skin. The hand had turned claw-like and it seemed like some of the fingers were merging together.

He whistled. “Incredible.”

“Isn’t it?” Vahlen agreed smiling. “This species will be essential in our own genetic experiments.”

“Is it just physical?” The Commander asked slowly. “Could strength, endurance or intelligence be increased as well?”

“Strength and endurance? Certainly,” Vahlen agreed. “I’m not certain about intelligence, but I wouldn’t consider it impossible.”

“Wonderful,” the Commander mused on the implications of that. “That means we could be facing an army of super-soldiers soon.”

“Possibly,” Vahlen agreed. “But I don’t think it’s as bad as you think. There is one possible issue I noticed.”

“Which is?”

“If the genes are modified too much, they began to break down,” Vahlen explained. “It’s likely why the thin men we’ve encountered haven’t been hyper-strong or intelligent. Most of the genetic…’budget’….I guess that’s a decent analogy, was used to make the thin men appear human. As they become more familiar with our species, that could change though.”

“That’s something,” the Commander acknowledged. “And I don’t suppose you could create a virus for them?”

“Impossible,” Vahlen declared flatly. “I’m not even sure the toxins we have now will affect them.”

“Are there any similarities?” the Commander asked. “Things that remain consistent no matter the alteration?”

“Our earlier corpses all had reptilian eyes,” Vahlen explained with a frown. “But the aliens appeared to have fixed that problem as the eyes are mostly human. The proportions are mostly normal as well.” She raised a finger. “However, I’ve found something like a poison gland in them, I’m assuming it’s the acid that’s caused our soldiers issues. It appears fairly easy to replicate, I could weaponized it if you wish.”

“A good idea,” the Commander agreed and sighed. “So what could we expect if they decide to forgo the human mimicry?”

“A good question,” Vahlen agreed and sighed. “And one I have no answer to. This species could theoretically appear as anything.  I don’t even know if it even _has_ a standard form or gender.” She paused. “I’d assume something naturally armored, resilient to all toxins and highly intelligent and strong. What that would look like, I don’t know.”

“As long as it’s not a spider,” the Commander said with a half-smile. Vahlen’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“The great commander is afraid of spiders?” She teased lightly.

He frowned. “Not _afraid_ per-se, I just hate the little things. With their legs…” he shook his head and scowled. “I just don’t like them.”

Vahlen crossed her arms with an amused smile on her face. “I’ll be sure to remember that.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t get any ideas, Moira. Or I’ll find something you don’t like and see how you like it.”

“Well, you told me your phobia, so I’ll tell you mine,” she chuckled. “Snakes.”

“Snakes.” He repeated. “You hate snakes.”

“Why so surprised?” She asked, cocking her head.

“I wouldn’t have thought you to even _have_ a phobia,” he answered. “But I suppose there wasn’t a reason not to.”

“Well, I was bitten by one as a girl,” she explained. “That probably had something to do with it.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “Well, I wouldn’t worry. The chances of us facing giant snakes or spiders is probably close to zero.”

“Agreed,” she nodded, then waved him to another table. “And speaking of animals, this creature was particularly interesting.” He looked at the dissected corpse of one of those alien creatures, the purple chitin armor chipped and broken.

“What did you learn?” He asked.

“The aliens are as afraid of this creature as we are,” she answered grimly. “These creatures have a lifespan of one hour.”

“One _hour?_ He repeated incredulously, eyebrow rising. “How is that possible?”

“Extensive genetic modification as well,” she explained. “My calculations state that once it lays it’s egg, it will hatch and grow full sized in a matter of minutes.” She paused and, looking quite proud of herself, finished. “I call it a chryssalid.”

“A pretty name,” he commented. “Why?”

“Because of how it’s born,” she picked up a tablet and showed him the body of one of the victims of this chryssalid. “The creatures appear to either be genderless or exclusively female. Their only way of reproduction is implanting an egg in a host. That egg will begin to grow rapidly and temporarily reanimate the body.” She shook her head. “I’m still not entirely sure how that works, but that appears to be what happens. But essentially, the body acts like a chrysalis, and once it gets big enough…” she paused. “It breaks out. To repeat the cycle again.”

“The perfect weapon of terror,” the Commander commented. “These things could wipe out a city. They seem almost closer to a disease than a living animal.”

“I agree,” Vahlen nodded. “Their function appears similar to a biological weapon. I don’t think it’d be inaccurate to label them as such.”

“So are there any weaknesses?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes,” she answered enthusiastically. “The same as sectoid. Each one is a perfect genetic copy. Which means that a weapon of our own could be developed against them.”

“A disease is impractical,” the Commander muttered. “A poison of some sort would work better.”

“True,” Vahlen agreed. “But there could be a better idea.” She picked up a jar with some sort of cloudy ball inside. “This is a chryssalid egg I’ve extracted.” She explained. “It appears to be alive and I’ve kept it in stasis for now.”

He eyed the jar curiously. “What do you have in mind?”

“I haven’t proven this yet,” Vahlen said slowly, emphasizing each word. “But I think the aliens have altered their minds to hunt humans specifically.”

The Commander thought back to the footage of the attacks and his own experiences. “Could they have been psionically influenced? It might not be genetic.”

“Like I said, I don’t know for sure,” Vahlen repeated. “But if it _were_ a genetic modification, I could modify it…”

“So it would hunt aliens instead.” The Commander finished, blinking. That was incredibly risky, but if it worked….they could have a powerful weapon to use against the aliens.

“What would you need?” he asked.

“At least one live chryssalid,” she listed. “And several human subjects. One to implant the egg inside and the others for testing the modifications.”

The Commander nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, what other projects have you got going.”

She tapped on her tablet. “We’ve begun the autopsy of the armored alien, and begun researching what exactly that yellow substance is. I expect it will take a couple weeks to finish. It’s by far the most complex thing we’ve had to research.”

“I’m certain it’ll be worth it,” the Commander reassured her. “I’m curious about what that stuff is as well. We certainly have a lot of it.”

“I’ll do my best to ensure we can use it,” she agreed. There was silence between them for a few seconds. “I’m not sure I’ve said this since we’ve been so busy…but I’m glad you’re safe.”

He smiled warmly at her. “Well, I appreciate your concern. I had my own reasons for being glad to be alive.”

She smirked and closed the distance between them to a foot or so and took his hands in her own. “Really,” she said softly. “And just what were they?”

“Oh you know,” he answered lightly. “Making sure Earth doesn’t fall, keeping the UN in check, wanting the Packers to win the Super Bowl.” He paused. “There was something else…ah, right! I wanted to see you again. We always have such interesting conversations.”

“That we do,” she agreed and he pulled her into a hug which she accepted immediately. They stood that way for what seemed like a while. The Commander then heard an awkward cough behind him and he reluctantly let her go. He turned to see a clearly nervous scientist standing awkwardly, fiddling with his tablet.

“Er, Dr. Vahlen…” he began nervously, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. “The results.”

“Give me that thing,” she snapped, glaring and storming up to him and grabbing the tablet. “Return to your assignment.”

“Yes, Doctor,” he stammered and moved away as quickly as he could.

The Commander had to smile. This would no doubt fuel quite a few rumors. Not that he really cared. “I’ll let you get back to work,” he told her. “I’ll see you later.”

She smiled up at him. “Alright, Commander. See you later.”

Feeling rather happy, he exited the labs. There was a lot to think about, personally and otherwise.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Medical Ward_

Luke opened his eyes, wincing at the bright light shined into them. Why did every single light in a hospital have to always be on at full blast? _Especially_ if there were patients just coming out of a haze of drugs? It was unnecessary and annoying.

Well, he’d adjust to it. He closed his eyes again and reopened them. The light was still bright, but he was slightly more adjusted to the glare. Now almost fully awake, he looked around the room and was surprised to see Mira sitting there, staring off into the distance.

She’d lowered her hood, something he’d only seen her do once. Her face was still as scarred and damaged as he remembered, but there was still enough left of it to begin to make out some inkling of what she was feeling. At least how it looked now, she looked rather forlorn and lonely.

He should probably be careful what to say. Putting down her hood was not something she did lightly and likely meant she was going to do something important to her. At the very least, it was a sign of trust and one he didn’t intend to abuse.

“Hey.” He called out softly, pleased that his voice didn’t sound to ravaged.

She looked up and a small smile appeared on her lips. “You’re awake.”

He let out a sigh. “No, I’m not. You just think I am.”

“Don’t plant that idea,” she chided, her eyes more amused than irritated. “With the amount of sleep I’ve gotten that could be a legitimate concern.”

He sincerely hoped she was joking. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been waiting here this whole time?”

“No,” she shook her head, much to his relief. Until she continued. “Just most of it.” He raised a hand to cut him off. “And no, I wasn’t just sitting here either. I have material to catch up on.” She motioned to her tablet and a box at the floor and he relaxed a bit.

“You really didn’t need to do this,” he still said. “I mean, I’d rather you be well rested than up because of me.”

Mira didn’t even pretend that wasn’t the reason. “I’ve gone three nights without sleep before. Probably more, in fact. This is nothing.”

He let out a sigh. There wasn’t much he could really say or do to her. Best accept it. “Well, I appreciate it.”

“You have no grounds for protesting,” she commented. “You’d do exactly the same thing.”

He winced. Yep, she was right there. “Fair point.”

She stood and sat by him on the edge of his bed. He pushed himself up to face her a little better. She just looked at the wall, her face back to a forlorn state, almost with a hint of nervousness.

“I see you put the hood down.” He said after a minute of silence.

She snorted. “How observant.”

He internally cursed. That was _probably_ the wrong thing to say. “I just mean that…well, it’s different.”

“In what way?” she asked.

He hesitated. “You seem more human.”

She apparently didn’t expect that answer and turned to face him, her face holding confusion. “Really? How?”

He paused as he tried to find the right words. “I guess that hood is more…impersonal, I guess. I know it’s what you intended, but it’s like a mask. People can’t completely relate to you with it on. When it’s off, well…even if your face is damaged, I can clearly see you have emotions like everyone else.”

The corners of her lips curled up. “And what emotions are you seeing?”

“You look forlorn,” he answered softly. “And almost nervous.”

She looked away. “Yes…” she mused quietly. “I suppose I am. I’d forgotten what that felt like.”

“What felt like?” He asked.

“Nervousness,” she answered. “It’s been years.”

He frowned. “What could you possibly be nervous about?”

She looked back at him. “Over the past few days I’ve realized something. Something I’ve been avoiding for what I considered objectively good reasons. I held back since I didn’t know if you’d…moved on or not.” She paused and took a breath. “But you almost died and that essentially forced me to do a rather critical self-examination.”

She looked down at his hand and took it in both of hers. “You’ve become important to me. More than I could have ever predicted. I’ve only cared for one other like this before. It’s something I never thought I’d ever feel again, but I do…” she let out a nervous chuckle. “And I’m nervous because I don’t know if you even feel the same way. But I have very strong feelings for you. Even if I’m wrong, I wanted you to know in case something like this happened again.”

For the first time that he’d seen, Mira looked vulnerable. She’d laid bare exactly what she was feeling and done one thing she’d repeatedly said she would never do; leave herself open. Let others in.

Turning her down would likely close her off for good, even if she said otherwise.

How fortunate that there was no way in Hell he was ever doing that.

Pushing himself even more upright he gave her a smile. “Don’t be nervous, Mira,” he told her softly. “I feel the same way.” Then leaned in and kissed her. She seemed surprised at first, but got over it pretty quickly and returned it. It lasted for several seconds until he broke it and smiled.

“That answer your question?” He asked wryly.

She nodded earnestly. “Yes. Yes it does.”

He was about to say something when a wave of drowsiness swept over him. He opened his mouth but Mira gently placed her fingers on his mouth to shush him. “Don’t say anything. Rest.”

She laid him back on the pillow. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“Only if you want,” he managed as he tried to keep awake.

She smiled at him. “I’d like nothing more.” With that she got up, took off her boots and socks and crawled into the small bed with him.

_Oh…That’s what she meant._ Well, he certainly wasn’t going to complain. With Mira curled up beside him, both of them drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

Supplementary Material

* * *

 

The Janus Contingency

 PREFACE: The following details scenarios dealing with traitorous elements of XCOM from all divisions as well as instructions for replacement of key personnel in the event of an untimely death or assassination.

DEFINITIONS:

Treason: Willful and active participation to impede, sabotage or undermine XCOM by way of obstruction, unauthorized dispersal of critical documents or information, internal sabotage of equipment (Mechanical or otherwise), assassination of key personnel or observing and reporting to an organization or government unaffiliated, allied with, or against XCOM.

SECTION 1: TREASON (Within XCOM Divisions)

SECENARIO 1.1: XCOM Armed Forces: In the event that a member of XCOM’s armed forces is determined to have committed treason again XCOM, the following will be executed.

            PROCEDURE 1: In the event that the soldier in question is in the Citadel:

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers will locate the traitorous soldier, subdue him or her and bring them to the detention cells for interrogation.
  2. The soldier will be interrogated by either the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang to determine the amount of information compromised and names of contacts.
  3. Once sufficient information has been extracted, XCOM Intelligence, in accordance with the Commander, will determine how best to root out and destroy and organization or person(s) responsible for the soldiers defection.
  4. The soldier in question will be executed and the body stripped of organs and blood. What remains will be sent to the hostile organization as a warning, if known, otherwise the body will be thrown to the wildlife.



EXCEPTION 1: Dr. Moira Vahlen has authorization to request that the soldier be moved to her division as a human subject in various experiments.

EXCEPTION 2: Dr. Raymond Shen has authorization to request that the soldier be moved to his division as a test subject for the various effects of weapons and grenades.

EXCEPTION 3: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn has authorization to request that the soldier be used as a bargaining chip in various negotiations if the soldier is of a high enough profile.

EXCEPTION 4: Intelligence Director Zhang has authorization to request that the soldier be moved to his division to be used in various operational roles, such as bait, a human shield, or suicide bomber.

NOTICE 1: The Commander has the authorization to deny any and all requests dealing with the sentence of the soldier.

PROCEDURE 2: In the event that the soldier is outside the Citadel or currently participating in an operation:

  1. Unless it is utterly essential that the traitorous soldier be dealt with immediately, no action will be taken against the soldier until he or she has returned to the Citadel or any other location XCOM is in control of.
  2. In the case that it is essential that the traitorous soldier be dealt with immediately, the highest ranking soldier will be contacted by the Commander, detailing the situation and providing orders.
  3. The soldiers will move to subdue and capture the soldier in question alive if possible. If the situation becomes dangerous, the soldiers have authorization to execute the traitorous individual.
  4. Following the capture of the soldier, Procedure 1 will go into effect, starting at Step 2.



SCENARIO 1.2: XCOM Research and Development: In the event that a member of XCOM Research and Development is determined to have committed treason against XCOM, the following will be executed:

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers will be sent to arrest the person in question, taken alive if possible. After the person has been secured, they will be brought to the detention cells for interrogation.
  2. The person in question will be first interrogated by Dr. Moira Vahlen. In the event that she fails to extract anything, the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang will take over interrogation.
  3. Once sufficient information has been extracted, XCOM Intelligence, in accordance with the Commander, will determine how best to root out and destroy and organization or person(s) responsible for the persons defection.
  4. Depending on current needs, the person in question will be used as a test subject in ongoing experiments or stripped of all essential organs and blood to use for medical or scientific needs. If the body perishes due to experimentation, it will be placed in cold storage until such a time comes to autopsy it. If the body perishes due to other reasons, final authority of the corpse will be redirected to the Commander.



EXCEPTION 1: The Commander has the authority to request the execution of the person in question.

EXCEPTION 2: Dr. Raymond Shen has authorization to request that the person be moved to his division as a test subject for the various effects of weapons and grenades.

EXCEPTION 3: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn has authorization to request that the person be used as a bargaining chip in various negotiations if the person is of a high enough profile.

EXCEPTION 4: Intelligence Director Zhang has authorization to request that the person be moved to his division to be used in various operational roles, such as bait, a human shield, or suicide bomber.

NOTICE 1: Dr. Moira Vahlen has the authorization to deny any and all requests dealing with the sentence of the person.

SCENARIO 1.3: XCOM Engineering: In the event that a member of XCOM Engineering is determined to have committed treason against XCOM, the following will be executed:

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers will be sent to arrest the person in question, taken alive if possible. When the person in question has been subdued, they will be taken to the detention cells for interrogation.
  2. The person in question will be “interrogated” by Dr. Raymond Shen. When that fails to extract any information, the interrogation will be taken over by the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang.
  3. Once sufficient information has been extracted, XCOM Intelligence, in accordance with the Commander, will determine how best to root out and destroy and organization or person(s) responsible for the persons defection.
  4. Afterwards, the person in question will be extradited to his or her country of origin for trial and subsequent sentencing. In the event of death, the body will be cremated and disposed of accordingly.



EXCEPTION 1: The Commander has the authority to request the execution of the person in question.

EXCEPTION 2: Dr. Moira Vahlen has authorization to request that the person be moved to her division as a human subject in various experiments.

EXCEPTION 3: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn has authorization to request that the person be used as a bargaining chip in various negotiations if the person is of a high enough profile.

EXCEPTION 4: Intelligence Director Zhang has authorization to request that the person be moved to his division to be used in various operational roles, such as bait, a human shield, or suicide bomber.

NOTICE 1: Dr. Raymond Shen has the authorization to deny any and all requests dealing with the sentence of the person.

SCENARIO 1.4: XCOM Analysis and Communications: In the event that a member of XCOM Analysis and Communications is determined to have committed treason against XCOM, the following will be executed:

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers will be sent to arrest the person in question, taken alive if possible. When the person in question has been subdued, they will be taken to the detention cells for interrogation.
  2. The person in question will be first interrogated by Central Officer John Bradford. In the event that he fails to extract anything, the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang will take over interrogation.
  3. Once sufficient information has been extracted, XCOM Intelligence, in accordance with the Commander, will determine how best to root out and destroy and organization or person(s) responsible for the persons defection.
  4. The person in question will executed by lethal injection and the body cremated and disposed of. The person will be purged from all XCOM records permanently, including accolades of any kind.



EXCEPTION 1: The Commander has the authority to request the execution of the person in question.

EXCEPTION 2: Dr. Moira Vahlen has authorization to request that the person be moved to her division as a human subject in various experiments.

EXCEPTION 3: Dr. Raymond Shen has authorization to request that the person be moved to his division as a test subject for the various effects of weapons and grenades.

EXCEPTION 4: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn has authorization to request that the person be used as a bargaining chip in various negotiations if the person is of a high enough profile.

EXCEPTION 5: Intelligence Director Shaojie Zhang has authorization to request that the person be moved to his division to be used in various operational roles, such as bait, a human shield, or suicide bomber.

NOTICE 1: Central Officer John Bradford has the authorization to deny any and all requests dealing with the sentence of the person.

SCENARIO 1.5: XCOM Intelligence: In the event that an agent of XCOM Intelligence is determined to have committed treason against XCOM, the following will be executed:

  1. Agents of XCOM Intelligence will be dispatched to find the rogue agent and bring him or her in for questioning and interrogation. The rogue agent is to be brought in alive, if at all possible.
  2. The agent will be interrogated by Intelligence Director Zhang alongside the Commander.
  3. Once sufficient information has been extracted, XCOM Intelligence, in accordance with the Commander, will determine how best to root out and destroy and organization or person(s) responsible for the persons defection.
  4. Depending on needs, the former agent may be used in operations for various fatal tasks that would otherwise not be possible. In the event that an operative like this is not needed, the former agent will be executed or given to XCOM Intelligence Operatives to use as live practice.



EXCEPTION 1: The Commander has the authority to request the execution of the agent in question.

EXCEPTION 2: Dr. Moira Vahlen has authorization to request that the agent be moved to her division as a human subject in various experiments.

EXCEPTION 3: Dr. Raymond Shen has authorization to request that the agent be moved to his division as a test subject for the various effects of weapons and grenades.

EXCEPTION 4: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn has authorization to request that the person be used as a bargaining chip in various negotiations if the agent is of a high enough profile.

NOTICE 1: Intelligence Director Shaojie Zhang has the authorization to deny any and all requests dealing with the sentence of the person.

            SECTION 2: TREASON OF INTERNAL COUNCIL MEMBERS

SCENARIO 2.1: The Commander of XCOM: In the event that it is determined that the Commander of XCOM has committed treason, the following will be executed:

  1. The entirety of XCOM will focus all efforts on finding the Commander with the express purpose of execution. Under no circumstances is the Commander to be brought in alive or injured. When found, the Commander must be shot on sight and it shall be ensured that he is dead. The body will be disposed of immediately using whatever means are needed.



SCENARIO 2.2: Head of XCOM Research and Development, Dr. Moira Vahlen: In the event that it is determined that Moira Vahlen has committed treason, the following will be executed.

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers under the direction of the Commander or Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn will be sent to take Dr. Vahlen into custody. Extreme caution is to be exercised when her capture. Expect traps, toxins and other biological based defenses. If she in unable to be safely captured alive, she is to be executed.
  2. In the event of her capture, she will be interrogated by either the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang. Following her interrogation and extraction of information, she will be executed or extradited to Germany for trial and conviction.



SCENARIO 2.3: Head of XCOM Engineer, Dr. Raymond Shen: In the event that it is determined that Raymond Shen has committed treason, the following will be executed.     

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers under the direction of the Commander or Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn will be sent to take Dr. Shen into custody. Caution is to be exercised when attempting capture. Expect possible traps, mechanical or robotic defenses. If he is unable to be safely captured alive, he is to be executed.
  2. In the event of his capture, he will be interrogated by either the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang. Following his interrogation and extraction of information, he will executed or extradited to the United States of America for trial and conviction.



SCENARIO 2.4: Central Officer of XCOM Analysis and Communication, John Bradford: In the event that it is determined that John Bradford has committed treason, the following will be executed.

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers under the direction of the Commander or Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn will be sent to take Bradford into custody. Caution is to be exercised when attempting capture. Expect possible sabotage in communications, equipment failure or armed assault. If he is unable to be safely captured alive, he is to be executed.
  2. In the event of his capture, he will be interrogated by either the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang. Following his interrogation and extraction of information, he will executed or extradited to the United States of America for trial and conviction.



SCENARIO 2.5: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn: In the event that it is determined that Peter Van Doorn has committed treason, the following will be executed.

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers under the direction of the Commander will be sent to take Van Doorn into custody. Extreme caution is to be exercised when attempting capture. Expect ambushes, possible verbal persuasion and NATO armed forces. If he is unable to be safely captured alive, he is to be executed.
  2. In the event of his capture, he will be interrogated by either the Commander or Intelligence Director Zhang. Following his interrogation and extraction of information, he will executed or extradited to the Netherlands for trial and conviction.



SCENARIO 2.6: Intelligence Director Shaojie Zhang: In the event that it is determined that Shaojie Zhang has committed treason, the following will be executed.

  1. A squad of XCOM soldiers under the direction of the Commander or Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn will be sent to take Zhang into custody. Extreme caution is to be exercised when attempting capture. Expect ambushes, traps, sabotage, equipment failure and armed assault. If he is unable to be safely captured alive, he is to be executed.
  2. In the event of his capture, he will be interrogated by either the Commander in conjunction with Dr. Moira Vahlen. In the event that traditional interrogation methods fail, as many memories as possible will be extracted by Dr. Vahlen. In the event that he survives his interrogation, he will executed.



            SECTION 3: LOSS OF INTERNAL COUNCIL MEMBER AND REPLACEMENT

SCENARIO 3.1: The Commander of XCOM: In the event that the Commander is assassinated, killed, or otherwise unable to hold his position, the following will be executed:

  1. The order of succession is as follows: 
    1. Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn
    2. Intelligence Director Shaojie Zhang
    3. Central Officer John Bradford
    4. Head of XCOM Research and Development, Moira Vahlen
    5. Head of XCOM Engineering, Raymond Shen



SCENARIO 3.2: Head of XCOM Research and Development, Dr. Moira Vahlen: In the event that Moira Vahlen is assassinated, killed, or otherwise unable to hold her position, the following will be executed.

  1. The order of succession is as follows:
  2. Chief Assistant Brandon Rivers
  3. Chief Chemist Proia Chorus
  4. Chief Genetic Engineer Varan Engrion



SCENARIO 3.3: Head of XCOM Engineering, Dr. Raymond Shen: In the event that Raymond Shen is assassinated, killed, or otherwise unable to hold his position, the following will be executed.

  1. The order of succession is as follows:
  2. Senior Mechanical Engineer Charlie Wilson
  3. Senior Architect Shae Ha
  4. Senior Robotics Expert Talia Rossand



SCENARIO 3.4: Central Officer of XCOM Analysis and Communication, John Bradford: In the event that John Bradford is assassinated, killed, or otherwise unable to hold his position, the following will be executed.

  1. The order of succession is as follows:
  2. Chief Assistant Ariel Jackson
  3. Communications Specialist Chris Angrion
  4. Chief Analysis Specialist Mary Yousef



SCENARIO 3.5: Tactical Advisor Peter Van Doorn: In the event that Peter Van Doorn is assassinated, killed, or otherwise unable to hold his position, the following will be executed.

  1. The order of succession is as follows:


  1. NATO Commander Jahwe Nawar
  2. XCOM Soldier Patricia Trask
  3. NATO Tactical Advisor Yawe Al-Shira



SCENARIO 3.6: Director of XCOM Intelligence, Shaojie Zhang: In the event that Shaojie Zhang is assassinated, killed, or otherwise unable to hold his position, the following will be executed.

  1. The order of succession is as follows:
  2. Intelligence Cryptologist Benjamin Ham
  3. Intelligence Agent Ruth Shira
  4. Intelligence Agent Galia Benski



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	32. Precursor of Terror

 

_The Citadel, Mess Hall_

_Ten Days Later_

“Have you made a decision yet?” Liam asked after taking a bite of his pizza.

Abby sighed and rested her arms on the table. “No. Not yet.”

Liam appraised her, straightening up. “I assume you’re leaning in one direction.”

“I suppose,” she agreed reluctantly. “I’m leaning towards accepting his offer.”

Liam cocked his head and frowned. “Then what’s stopping you?”

“Several things,” she answered, waving her hand in a circle. Her face a mask of confliction. “A large part is that I’d feel wrong just abandoned what I was doing before. It doesn’t feel right to just drop everything to go play spy.”

Liam shrugged. “People transfer all the time. Everyone is usually understanding, and an offer like that doesn’t come up often.”

“But _I’d_ feel like I was abandoning everyone here,” she repeated wearily. “I’m sure everyone would be nice about it, but it won’t change my feelings.”

“Trust me, Abby,” Liam reassured her. “None of us would think that.”

“I really hope you’re right,” she said, looking around. “I don’t know if I’m the only one who got the offer either. I’m pretty sure Zhang is now recruiting from the soldiers.”

Liam nodded as he recalled some conversations. “You’re right. Several others have as well. I believe Myra and Marten both accepted the offer.”

“Well, at least that decision makes sense,” Abby commented, leaning up. “Both of them have at least some military experience.” She looked down at herself and smirked. “But me? I’m just a young doctor who got in way over her head. I’m not like them, I’m too…ordinary.”

Liam snorted in derision. “You’ve faced actual aliens, watched people die horribly, and saved my life as well as many others on that operating table. You’re far from _ordinary_. Most people in your position would have cracked under the stress. You seem barely affected at all.”

“You have no idea,” she sighed, shaking her head and running her hand through her blonde hair. “It’s almost overwhelming at times. What you saw after the Hamburg attack was a more accurate representation of how I feel at times. This,” she waved her hand in front of her face. “Is a mask. I guess I learned that in med school. You can’t lose control, otherwise people will die. When you accidentally make an incision in the wrong part of the heart, you can’t go into panic mode. It’s a chain effect, once someone is visibly upset, everyone else will feel as such.”

Liam clasped his hands together, looking at her intently. “I assume you’re speaking from personal experience?”

“Yeah,” she answered softly. “Twice. Once during a heart transplant, the other on a spinal surgery. Both almost died from my mistake.”

“But they didn’t,” Liam finished. “Because you kept your composure.”

“Yes,” Abby nodded. “Lucky for me. I almost cracked the first time it happened.”

“That you didn’t is a good sign for your stability,” Liam commented. “Intelligence work is very stressful.”

“Maybe,” Abby shrugged. “But I still don’t know why he would take an interest in me specifically. How am I more qualified?”

“You’ve got a Kidon agent that’s willing to train you,” Liam pointed out. “I’d imagine that was what prompted his final decision. The Kidon are experts and extremely dangerous.” He frowned at her. “Be very careful if you accept. I’d wager this woman isn’t doing this out of the kindness of her heart. You’ve caught her attention for some reason. I wouldn’t trust her until you know what that is.”

Abby scowled into her drink. “I don’t want to be a pawn for some agenda.”

The corners of Liam’s mouth turned up. “We’re all pawns here, Abby. We’re strategic pieces in this war and the Commander utilizes us to the best of his ability. That’s not going to change if you become and intelligence agent.”

“Correction,” Abby interrupted weaily. “I don’t like being _manipulated_.”

“Then don’t be,” Liam encouraged, looking at her intently. “Intelligence work thrives on secrets and lies. If you accept, just understand that she’s likely holding something back. Subtlety is most essential in manipulation. If you just assume that, it’ll be harder for her to actually use you.”

Abby rested her forearms back on the table. “This almost sounds like more trouble than it’s worth.”

Liam smiled. “Keep in mind I’m naturally paranoid and have a strong distrust of spies. I might be completely wrong,” He looked up thoughtfully. “Though I do think a bit of paranoia is healthy.”

“Maybe you’re paranoid,” Abby admitted with a shrug. “However, you were a spy yourself so I’m inclined to believe you.”

“I just want you to consider the implications,” Liam answered earnestly. “Intelligence work isn’t nearly as straightforward as the military. It’s far more mentally taxing.”

“So what do you think?” Abby asked. “Should I accept?”

Liam visibly pondered that for a few seconds. Looking her in the eyes, his words were very deliberate. “Personally…” he began. “I would. I think you could handle it, and with the proper training, I think you’d be an excellent agent. That being said, you’re have to be very careful of the people around you. But honestly, that would apply to everyone.”

Abby nodded. While that didn’t exactly set in stone her decision, Liam’s opinion was very important to her. But if she accepted, it wasn’t going to be just on the advice of a friend, even a good one. “Thank you.” She told him sincerely.

They finished eating in silence and Liam raised an eyebrow and appeared to be looking at something behind her. “It seems Luke is almost back to normal.” She looked behind her to see Luke and Mira getting food of their own and chatting.

She smiled at that. “Yes,” she told him. “He’s almost fully recovered. I’ll probably clear him for combat either today or tomorrow. Figured discharging him a day early would give him time to get into a semi-normal routine.”

“A quick recover,” Liam commented. “Even with XCOM tech.”

“It helped he was in excellent physical condition,” Abby added. “Combined with XCOM tech, it definitely reduces injury times.”

“Not to mention his moral support,” Liam comment wryly, throwing a sidelong glance at Mira. Abby suppressed a laugh at that.

“Moral support?” She repeated incredulously. “ _Mira?”_

“Do you have another explanation for why she’s been spending so much time with him?” Liam asked, looking back to her in amusement.

Oh, she most certainly did. “I might. But I think you have another explanation as well.”

“I do,” he answered wistfully. “But I don’t think you’ll believe it.”

“We’re under attack by aliens,” she reminded him. “At this point anything’s possible.”

“Alright,” he leaned in. “I think they like each other.”

She began giggling. Liam seemed more amused. “Hard to believe, I know,” he said. “But it makes-“

“No, no,” she raised a hand to cut him off, controlling herself. “No, you’re right.”

He looked surprised. “Wait, they do?” His eyes narrowed. “And, uh, just how do _you_ know?”

By complete accident, it had turned out. She’d been going to check on Luke since it had been a few hours. So, she’d opened the door as usual and had been greeted by the sight of both Luka _and_ Mira sleeping on the bed together. Without hesitating, she’d immediately spun on her heel and left, taking great care to keep quiet. She valued her own health and didn’t think it was wise to potentially face the wrath of Mira if she woke her in such a compromising position.

Still, the whole thing had been rather cute.

“Trust me,” she told Liam, smiling. “I saw proof with my own eyes.”

His eyes widened. “You mean you-“

“ _No_ ,” she practically exclaimed, realizing how that’d come out. “No. Nothing like that!”

He chuckled. “Ok, ok. Glad that’s cleared up. Still,” he looked over at the couple. “I didn’t expect anything like that from her of all people.”

“I guess people change,” Abby shrugged. “No doubt he was a major part of that.”

“Probably,” Liam agreed taking a sip of his water. “Since we’re on this topic as well, I’ve heard some other interesting things in the romantic department.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?” she rested her elbows on the table. “Well, don’t leave me in suspense.”

“Well, I’d be careful who you repeat this to,” Liam warned with a smile. “However, it seems Vahlen and our good Commander are getting rather close.”

Abby coughed. “ _Vahlen?”_ She sputtered. “Why on earth would he choose her?”

“I take it you don’t approve?” Liam asked, amused.

She scowled. “Have you _met_ the woman? She’s one of the coldest and most practical people I’ve encountered. She never really struck me as having the capability to care.” She paused. “I wouldn’t put it past her using this as some sort of way to get close to him to run tests or something.”

“Ouch, harsh,” Liam commented, exhaling sharply. “Well, I trust my source on this. But it’s not confirmed.”

“Hopefully not,” Abby muttered. “He could do better.”

“Well, I’m not one to really judge,” Liam shrugged. “People become close when working together. Besides, there’s a lot we don’t see. The Commander may know her differently than us.”

She eyed him curiously. “What about you? Have your eye on some pretty woman?”

He chuckled. “I find a few attractive on a purely superficial level, but not anything more.”

“You haven’t tried?” She asked curiously.

“Nah” he shook his head. “Never been good at that sort of thing. Besides,” he smirked. “Wouldn’t want to make things awkward. Especially when we’re all stuck here.”

“Well, just watch for someone whose similarly awkward,” Abby suggested wryly. “I could help.”

“Hmm,” he looked at her with interest. “I might take you up on that. So what about you?”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“Hey, you asked me,” he repeated with a smile. “I get to do the same.”

“Oh,” she looked down. “Well, no one.” She looked back up and shrugged. “But then again, I’m very picky. At least when the right guy comes along, I’ll know.”

“Hmm,” he let out. “Well, now I’m curious.”

“Nope,” she smirked. “I’m not telling you. Don’t want you spreading it around.”

“Alright,” he answered. “Fair enough.”

“Now,” she leaned forward. “Just who are you interested in?”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

Everyone had been quiet. The aliens, the Council, everyone.

It didn’t bode well. They were going to have to make a move sometime. They had to be planning something and he didn’t like not knowing. Zhang’s agents were not reporting anything unusual, but the aliens weren’t restricted to the Earth. They were likely plotting somewhere in space.

Which did pose an interesting question. Where _was_ the alien command base? There were three plausible answers to that, probably more, but these made the most sense. The first was that there was some kind of command ship, likely near the Earth to coordinate with their forces. Now, whether this command ship was strictly for command or a troop transport of some kind, he didn’t know. Either way, there was very little chance he could do anything to it from Earth, not until they developed spacecraft of their own.

The second was that the aliens had established a base on a nearby planet. Probably Mars or the Moon, though to his knowledge, none of the major space agencies had noticed odd structures on the Moon. Which didn’t mean they didn’t exist, but an established base on Mars would make the most sense, long term. If the aliens were intent on making this a long campaign, a base was essential, especially if production facilities were added. The alien’s numbers couldn’t be infinite, they needed to get their forces from somewhere. Again, there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

The last one was that the aliens had established a base on Earth. It was the most unlikely of the three, since he figured that someone would have noticed a sudden influx of alien activity over a particular region. It wasn’t impossible, but even if they had somehow managed to build a base, he doubted it would contain the leadership. However, at least he would be able to do something about it.

His intercom flashed, interrupting his thoughts. He tapped the answer button. “Yes?”

_“Commander,”_ Bradford answered urgently. _“Get down here. We’ve got a situation.”_ The Commander grasped his earpiece and fitted it while striding toward Mission Control.

“On my way, Bradford,” he answered, keeping his tone calm. “What’s going on?”

_“Internal network breach,”_ Bradford explained. _“It hit the system a few minutes ago and is getting through our firewalls. My team is trying to isolate the intruder.”_

A cyber attack. Damn it. “Is it alien?” He demanded, increasing his pace.

There was a pause on the other end and he waited intently. _“They’re telling me no,”_ Bradford finally answered. _“This is human.”_

The Commander rounded a turn, thinking intensely. While it was better than an alien attack, the implications weren’t great. How many organizations could have the skill or resources to break into the XCOM network? Several possible countries entered his mind. China, the United States, Israel, possibly the UK or Japan. The Council? EXALT? Did they _have_ that much skill? Furthermore, _why_ would they attack?

The doors hissed open and the Commander strode through, spotted Bradford standing behind an analyst and rushed over. “Status?” He called out.

“We’re trying to contain it,” the analyst answered tensely, her fingers flying. “It’s going into our research files.”

“What is it doing?” He demanded.

“I don’t know!” She bit out, throwing a frustrated glance up. “We’re trying to contain it!”

The Commander scowled, feeling useless. He should have thought something like this would happen. Cyber warfare was one area he was woefully unprepared, information wise. True, it was mostly thanks to his stint in prison. Not a good excuse, but he could only learn from this.

“It’s corrupting the files!” Another analyst called out.

“Which ones?” He demanded urgently.

“It’s starting on our most recent ones!” The analyst managed, furiously typing. “The alien substance and armored alien autopsy.”

“Can you stop it?” He demanded.

“It’s isolated itself inside the files themselves,” the analyst answered, looking back up. “Removing the infected files might expel it. But we’d lose most of our progress-”

“ _Might_?” The Commander demanded tensely. “I need a concrete answer! Not _might_.”

“I’m almost certain,” She confirmed, the light shining off her shocking pale blue eyes. “But we need to decide soon!”

Vahlen was going to be furious. But the data was probably corrupted anyway and their security had to come first. “Do it.” He ordered, stepping back.

“Yes, Commander,” the analyst answered and all of them waited a tense few minutes before the analyst leaned back. “Done.” She breathed. “I’ll sweep the system again, but I think it’s gone for good.”

“Figure out how this happened,” Bradford ordered, his tone veiled anger. “A breach like this is unacceptable.”

“This wasn’t an ordinary breach,” the analyst explained, her tone defensive. “This system has a very specific set of vulnerabilities. Most of which we’ve fixed as best we could.” She paused and took a breath. “Every single one was hit at once. They _knew_ how this system was designed. They went _directly_ for the research files. These were professionals, Commander, not some of those internet hacktivist pretenders.”

“Could the virus have been inserted on the hardware itself?” The Commander asked. An attack this direct and specific indicated possible traitorous activity.

“No,” the analyst dismissed, shaking her head. “This was wireless. The attack came from outside the Citadel.”

“Can you find out where it came from?” He asked.

She hesitated. “It’s unlikely I’ll be able to find the exact address. If they were smart, they would be using proxies, likely many of them. I’ll dedicate my team, but the best I’ll probably be able to pinpoint the continent of origin.”

That would still be useful. A country would be better, but he had to take what he could. “Then get started,” he ordered. “What is your name?”

“Ariel Jackson, Commander.” She answered, inclining her head.

He nodded back. “You did the best you could. But this can’t happen again. We’ve lost valuable progress thanks to this breach,” he sighed. “I’ll consult with Vahlen to determine how much time we lost.”

“How could they know where to attack?” Bradford muttered. “The schematics are sealed off from everyone except the Internal Council and Jackson.”

The Commander glanced down at the woman and frowned. “We should discuss this somewhere else,” he told him. “Assemble the rest. We meet in my office.”

Bradford nodded. “Yes, Commander.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

“How much was lost?” The Commander asked grimly, looking at Vahlen.

She pursed her lips, lips pursed in frustration. “All of it.”

“Damn it,” he muttered, leaning on the holotable. “You’ll have to start over?”

“Not entirely,” Vahlen amended with a sigh. “I can work off the notes I made, but we’ve lost at least a week, plus however much was left. We’ve also lost most of our data on the armored alien as well.”

“None of the other divisions were affected?” Zhang asked Bradford, who consulted his tablet.

Central shook his head. “No. I’ve got confirmation that the intrusion was eliminated.”

Zhang frowned. “I’m going to have my specialist look at your system.”

“Unnecessary,” Bradford refused, raising a hand. “My team knows what they are doing.”

Zhang snorted. “Clearly.”

“This was a highly targeted attack,” the Commander interrupted. “Zhang, these people knew what they were doing. I doubt your people would have done better.” He looked at Bradford. “Central, this isn’t a competition. We’re all on the same side. Let Zhang’s people look at it, they might find something your team missed.”

Bradford sighed. “Yes, Commander.”

“I’d also request that you forward everything to me,” Zhang suggested, tapping on his own tablet. “We should coordinate on this. We’re certain this wasn’t an alien attack?”

“Completely,” Bradford nodded. “Or at least, they were using human programming languages.”

“We have a bigger problem here,” Vahlen interjected. “Whoever it was _knew_ where to strike. Which begs the question – who would know that?”

The Commander looked at Shen. “Have you shared the schematics with anyone on your team?”

Shen shook his head. “No, I gave a cursory overview of the system, but I didn’t have a hand in creating it, nor shared it with anyone.”

The Commander frowned at looked at Bradford. “You trust Jackson?”

“If you’re asking if she’s a traitor, I say no.” Bradford insisted. “I’ve named her as my replacement for a reason. I trust her completely.”

“Well, they learned about our system _somehow_ ,” Van Doorn pointed out. “And there are very few people who know.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” the Commander muttered. “Who would attack _us_?”

“The Council?” Vahlen suggested. “They’re the most obvious choice.”

“That makes no sense,” Van Doorn disagreed, shaking his head. “Certain members of the Council may not like the Commander, but this is far beyond him. This was sabotage, plain and simple. The entirety of XCOM will suffer because of it, and the Council knows perfectly well that XCOM is their only legitimate hope against the aliens. This would be signing their own death warrant.”

“Not to mention there are easier ways to disband us if they wanted,” Shen pointed out. “All they would have to do is pull their funding and that would effectively shut us down.”

“I agree,” the Commander muttered. “But if not the Council, then who?”

“There are only a few countries that could launch a cyber attack on this scale,” Zhang stated. “Even exploiting the vulnerabilities is extremely difficult.”

“Who has that capability?” Vahlen asked.

“The most likely candidates are Russia, China, Israel and the United States,” Zhang listed off. “Possibly North Korea, though I don’t have a completely accurate record of their cyber division.”

“Three of the four are members of the Council,” the Commander noted. “And Israel is directly working with us. They know that the more progress we make, the more we’ll give them. Sabotage wouldn’t make sense.”

“Hold.” Van Doorn interrupted, raising a hand. Lowering it, he looked at Shen. “You said you didn’t build the system. Then who did?”

“I assume the United Nation had it built,” Shen recalled. “I believe it was a company called Bryson Security and Systems.”

Zhang frowned. “I know that name,” he picked up his tablet and began scrolling through it. “Where was it based?” He demanded.

“I believe it was an American company?” Shen remembered. “Why?”

“Because that was one of the shell companies that folded a little while ago,” Zhang answered, satisfaction clear in his voice. “And they would no doubt have schematics on the system used.”

The Commander blinked. “EXALT,” he recalled. “They were behind those companies.”

“Correct,” Zhang nodded. “And if they didn’t control it completely, they likely had people who answered to them.”

“It appears EXALT is a larger threat than we thought,” Bradford pondered. “Provided they _were_ behind this.”

“It makes more sense than the Council or another country,” Shen answered. “But the fact that they were able to do this is…worrying. As well as _why_?”

“ _Why_ is an excellent question,” the Commander muttered. “And one we need to solve.”

“I’ll have my team step up counter operations,” Zhang promised, looking at Bradford. “Let me know if your team pinpoints the location so I can begin directing operatives.”

“I’d expect soon,” Bradford answered firmly. “In the meantime, we need an alternative to our system now. If EXALT _does_ have schematics, they could do this again, even if we prepare as best we can.”

“Replacing all our systems is impractical,” Shen argued. “We don’t have the funds or time to do that.”

“Not to mention that EXALT might be anticipating that,” Van Doorn pointed out, frowning. “They might have people in all the major tech companies.”

Bradford tapped his earpiece and began listening intently to something. Probably an update from some of the analysts. The Commander looked at Shen. “It might be worth setting up a separate system exclusively for backing up all our data. That way we wouldn’t lose what we’ve learned.”

“I’ll see to setting one up,” Shen promised, then glanced over at Zhang. “Though it might be useful if your people checked the company out before I make any orders.”

Zhang inclined his head. “I will ensure they are clean.”

“We have another problem,” Bradford interrupted, his face taunt. With several quick button presses, the holotable lit up and displayed and alien ship, far larger than any before it. And the Commander recognized the massive vessel.

“Isn’t that the UFO from Hamburg?” He asked urgently, looking over at Bradford, who nodded.

“It might not be exactly the same,” he answered. “But it’s the same type at least.”

“So it’s back,” Vahlen stated, eyes cold. “Where?”

“We just detected it over the Pacific Ocean,” Bradford answered, bringing a map underneath the dreadnaught. “As for where it’s going? Based on its course, it appears to be China.”

No one needed to be told what would happen if it reached the country. Millions would die if it reached Beijing or Shanghai. If enough damage was caused, it might force China to abandon the Council. That would be catastrophic for XCOM and a severe moral blow for humanity at la.

“We can’t let it reach the country.” He stated, watching the dreadnaught inch ever closer.

“What do you suggest?” Bradford asked, indicating the massive UFO. “We’d likely lose all our fighters trying to take it down.”

The Commander looked at Zhang. “I think we might have to use that alien transponder.”

Zhang nodded furiously. “I’ll prepare it.”

“How much longer until it will make landfall?” Van Doorn asked, eyeing the map.

“Around eight hours if it keeps the same speed,” Bradford answered. “Provided that _is_ the target.”

“Until shown otherwise, we’re acting on that assumption,” the Commander ordered. “We can’t afford not to.”

“So we’ll send in a squad to set the transponder and draw the UFO away?” Shen asked. “How will that work?”

“We’ll use the trains,” Zhang answered. “We utilize a high-speed rail and set the transponder inside. At the very least it’ll give the dreadnaught pause.”

“We will need to send a team into the dreadnaught itself,” the Commander stated. “It’s the only way we’ll be able to take it out.”

“It’ll get blown out of the sky!” Bradford protested, eyes widening.

“Not if they have other things to shoot at,” the Commander corrected. “Let the Chinese know what’s coming. Tell them to mobilize their air force. Japan as well. They’ll have to draw fire for the skyranger to get in close.”

“They might not-“

“Then tell them if they don’t their country will be reduced to rubble,” the Commander snapped, eyes flashing. “If they give you issue _I_ will deal with them. But make it clear how high the stakes are.”

Bradford nodded. “Yes, Commander. I’ll get started on that.” Central walked away and the Commander turned to Zhang.

“A squad will cause panic,” he said, thinking. “Could your agents plant the transponder?”

“They can,” Zhang assured him. “I’ll send them out right away.”

“Make it fast,” the Commander ordered, glancing at the map. “You’ve got just under eight hours. In the meantime, I’ll prepare a squad to board the dreadnaught.”

* * *

 

_China, Two hours to landfall_

“We’re in position,” Ruth Shina said into her earpiece, looking around the packed station. “Awaiting the signal.”

_“Wait for the train,”_ Zhang advised. _“You’ll only get one shot at this.”_

Ruth snorted and took a sip of her drink, looking completely at home in her civilian attire. “Please, Zhang. If we can take out the German government, one train station is nothing.”

_“It better be,”_ Zhang warned. _“I’ll be watching.”_

Ruth looked at the young hacker sitting beside her, clearly agitated to a veteran like her, but to the ordinary populace, it might look like she was annoyed at something. “You ready for this?” She asked.

Akello glanced around, taking another sip of her own drink. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready. I can do this.” The last part seemed more to herself than anything. It wouldn’t do to have her be distracted during the mission. All she needed was reassurance she would do fine.

Luckily, she was good at telling people what they needed to hear. She flashed her a reassuring grin, not to obvious, but confident enough to make her point. Putting enough confidence and warmth in her voice, she addressed the woman. “Don’t worry too much, Akello,” she reassured her. “I’m certain you’ve done more difficult missions.”

“Well, yeah,” Akello admitted, clutching the bag holding her equipment. “But if we fail, millions of people will die. And I’m going to be the one who decides the outcome of this mission.”

“You have nothing to fear,” Ruth promised. “You have some of the best Kidon and Mossad agents behind you. We’ll allow you to work in relative peace.” She motioned at her bag. “Why don’t you practice some, or run through whatever exercises you want to. I find that it’s a calming technique.”

Akello looked around. “Won’t that draw attention?”

Ruth had to chuckle at that. “Please,” she shook her head. “Look around,” she motioned, indicating the crowd. “The majority of the people here are looking down at their phones, tablets and laptops. You won’t stand out.”

Akello bit her lip and nodded while she took out her own computer and began doing…well, whatever hackers did. For her, that was probably hacking into some guys phone. Actually, probably not. That was what _she_ would do.

She scanned the crowd to see if she could spot the rest of the team. If they’d done their jobs, she wouldn’t notice. When in disguise, the goal should _not_ to just fool the civilians, it should be good enough to fool _other_ agents. It was a goal that surprisingly few took seriously. Their loss. She wasn’t going to complain if others made it easier for the Kidon.

This had been an interesting insertion, for sure. She’d already been in China, so when the instructions had come, she’d gone to a pre-determined spot and the skyranger had come and picked her up. The news that the terror dreadnaught was coming to China was disturbing. An attack would severely weaken the image of XCOM and shake the faith of the Chinese government. In their emotional state of millions dying, they might foolishly decide to abandon XCOM and strike out on their own.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen on her watch. The mission was clear. Capture one of the trains, place the alien transponder on it, then send it off. The train they’d chosen ran through the countryside and the less populated areas, so even if the dreadnaught opened fire, the civilian casualties would be much lower. Probably in the thousands, a far more acceptable alternative.

She glanced down at her own bag, where the transponder was snugly resting in. Six agents had been deployed, which told her how seriously XCOM was taking this. Only the Hades Contingency had warranted more, and even then they’d been spread out throughout the country. This time would be different since they didn’t plan on executing any civilians.

Not unless they were forced.

However, if everything went according to plan they wouldn’t have to worry about that. The plan was deceptively simple. Akello would disable the cameras and communications. Meanwhile, once the train arrived, Naor would pull the fire alarm. In the ensuing chaos, they’d board the train, plant the transponder and set the train on its course.

Of course, the entire system would go into lockdown, but that was where Akello came in again. She’d disable the lockdown and program the train to go on the route. Then all of them would leave to predesignated destinations. Quick and easy, and hopefully before any law enforcement showed up.

_“Train coming in three minutes,”_ Randy informed them over their earpieces. _“Akello? Time to go.”_

“Got it,” she answered, visibly relaxed now. “Cameras going down within the minute.”

She began furiously typing while Ruth watched the crowd for any suspicious figures. None so far, the few guards there would be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people in here. Glancing up, she saw one of the cameras blinking red. Hopefully that was a good sign.

“Cameras disabled,” Akello informed them. “Communications next.”

_“I’m moving in,”_ Randy stated. _“Everyone get ready.”_

_“I’m ready to throw the switch,”_ Sarah told them. _“Fifteen seconds after the train arrives.”_

_“Thirty seconds to arrival,”_ Randy stated. _“Akello?”_

“Done.” She answered, her face taunt while she closed her laptop. “We’re clear.”

_“Copy that,”_ Sarah answered. _“Ruth?”_

“We’re moving into position,” she confirmed as she rose and began moving through the crowd, Akello behind her. The gates were crowded, but that didn’t matter as they’d clear in a matter of moments.

“Shem,” Ruth asked. “You there?”

_“Don’t worry,”_ came the easy reply. _“Me and Kalon have an addition to the plan.”_

She scowled. This was not the time. “No, we stick to the plan.”

_“Please, I know what I’m doing.”_ A new voice interrupted, not sounding like anyone she knew. It had a distinct Chinese accent, with a hint of condescension. Kalonymous did his job _far_ too well. His talent for mimicry and disguise was on a level she could only dream of. It was rather terrifying sometimes. 

“It’s coming,” Akello stated as she turned to look down the tunnel where the train was coming. With a loud groan and squeak, it showed to a halt and the doors hissed open and people began exiting.

The clock ticked down in her head as people began moving forward. “Execute.” She muttered and a loud alarm suddenly rang out. The loud wail kept repeating over and over and everyone froze when they heard it, not sure what to do.

Someone started shouting and everyone began rushing toward the exits. She looked behind to see several officers gesturing to people and directing them towards the exits. She shook her head in amusement. She wondered where they’d gotten the uniforms. Or more accurately, where the officers were.

“We’re moving in,” she informed everyone as they pushed through the rushing crowd. “Status?”

_“Two officers approaching,”_ Sarah answered. _“This may escalate soon.”_

Ruth scowled. “Don’t act unless you have too.”

_“I’m in position,”_ Randy told her. _“Boarding now. I’ll secure the controls.”_

_“They walked past,”_ Sarah updated, sounding relieved. _“Moving in now.”_

Akello and Ruth boarded the train and saw several people cowering in the train, in corners and under seats. “Kalon, Shem,” Ruth informed. “We’ve got people in here.”

_“I’ll get them out,”_ Shem informed. _“Get Akello to the controls.”_

“Copy that,” Ruth waved Akello over and they made their way through the train at a brisk pace. Coming up to the controls, Ruth scowled as she saw Randy and Sarah holding the two pilots at gunpoint. Damn. This was going to complicate things.

“They saw up before we could subdue them,” Sarah said grimly. “Orders?”

Ruth sighed and pointed at Randy. “Get the people in here out.”

“Got it,” he nodded and ran out. She quickly turned to one of the pilots.

“We need you to set the train for the next station,” she told him.

He shook his head and let out a bunch of Chinese words. There wasn’t time for this. “Akello, get this train running.”

“Will do,” she pulled out her laptop, dropped to her knee and began working.

“What about them?” Sarah asked.

Like there was a choice. They’d seen their faces and couldn’t afford to keep them alive. Unfortunate, but two casualties was an acceptable cost to this. “Kill them.” She ordered. “I’ll set up the transponder.”

Sarah nodded grimly, holstered her weapon and walked up to the two terrified pilots and snapped their necks, quickly before they could even scream. Akello flinched and looked up angrily. “Did you have to do that _here_?” She demanded.

“Finish,” Sarah muttered as she adjusted the bodies on the ground. Ruth took out the transponder from her bag and walked to the first car and set it flat on the ground. Luckily, the car was clear, so she didn’t have to worry about civilians asking questions. Quickly securing the black box to the ground, she attached the antennas the came with it, pressed several buttons and with a shimmering flash of lights, the transponder booted up.

“Transponder activated,” she stated, standing up. “We’re green.”

“Almost finished!” Akello called out.

_“We need to wrap this up,”_ Kalon said. _“The police are going to be coming soon.”_

“I’m in!” Akello called triumphantly.

“Let’s get out!” Ruth called and exited the train with Sarah and Akello behind her. The hacker was still tapping on her keyboard with one hand and the doors closed behind them. With a groan and hiss, the train started up and began leaving the station.

  “Mission complete,” Ruth stated. “Copy Zhang?”

_“I copy,”_ he answered. _“Well done. Get out of there.”_

“With pleasure,” Ruth acknowledged and with the mission complete, each of them exited the station following their pre-determined routes.

Now it was up to the soldiers.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

Well, right back into the fight.

Abby must have cleared him, which Luke had been rather surprised by. She’d made it clear that she disapproved of sending people back into action before they were ready. So he supposed it was a good sign if she considered him such.

He didn’t disagree either, even if he didn’t feel _completely_ healed, he was well enough to walk around in full armor and fire weapons. The new version of the armor Shen had designed was also a contributing factor to that. It was much easier to move around in while it didn’t appear to sacrifice protection.

His armored leggings on, he raised the armor over his head and lowered it until it fit snugly on his torso. “Let me adjust that,” Mira offered, walking up beside him and adjusting the straps and tightness of the armor. He happily let her and she concentrated on that intently. “That good?” She asked, looking up.

He smiled. “Perfect.” She stepped back, satisfied as he pulled on his gauntlets. Once he did, he motioned at her. “My turn now, let me check yours.”

“You don’t have to,” she answered, shrugging. “I made sure to double check.”

He shook his head. She still was used to doing everything herself when she didn’t need to. “I’m sure you did,” he told her, amused. “But I’d prefer to check if you don’t mind. Just to be safe.”

She gave a fairly exaggerated sigh. “Fine.” He walked over and made sure her suit was sealed and everything was in order. In contrast to him, Mira had opted for a far more armored suit, and despite towering over her, she made for a far more intimidating figure.

He stepped back. “Done.” She looked up and smiled.

“I appreciate that,” she told him, the faintest strand of amusement in her voice. “Even if that was completely unnecessary.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Now let’s get our weapons. They’re probably in the hanger already.”

Why did a mission have to come now of all times. Ah, well. There’d be plenty of time once they got back. He grabbed his laser SMG and pistol, as well as a couple flash-bangs. Grabbing his helmet, he donned it and once he heard the familiar click, his HUD initialized.

Mira had attached her rocket launcher to the slot on her back and grasped her rifle, then turned to him. Her helmet also on, she inclined her head. “Ready?” She asked.

He motioned to the door. “Lead the way.”

She strode past him and he followed close behind her. She kept a brisk pace, which he was happy he could now keep up with. The first few days after walking around had been rather painful. “Know what the mission is?” He asked as they rounded a corner.

“No,” she admitted. “I’m not overseer for this op.”

“Who is?” He asked. “Patricia?”

“I believe so,” she answered slowly as they walked past several engineers. “I think another UFO has appeared.”

“Well, I’m ready for them,” Luke said wryly. “I think it’s time to get some payback.”

“Not this time,” Mira warned. “You are not going to be the hero again.”

He sighed and smiled under his helmet. “Oh, fine. If you insist.”

“I’m serious,” Mira continued earnestly. “You have this tendency to think your life is less valuable. It’s not and I’m not going to lose you to that.”

He grew more serious. “You remember what we discusses, right?”

He saw her hand go to the place on her belt where the detonator was. “Of course. But I don’t intend to be in that position.”

“Neither do I,” he told her. “Let’s focus on coming back alive instead of the worst case scenario.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” She answered. “But I’m always prepared for the worst.” The doors hissed open before them and they walked into the hanger. Abby and Liam were chatting next to the skyranger and turned as they approached.

“Gertrude, Jaster,” Mira greeted, inclining her head towards them.

“Mira,” Abby replied cheerfully. “Glad to see you. You too, Luke.”

“I’m surprised you cleared me for combat,” Luke answered. “I thought you said at least a few days.”

Abby shrugged. “Like I said, that was my recommendation. In practice, we need all the people we can. You’re fit for combat and that’s most important.”

“Do we know what the mission is?” Liam asked, looking at Mira.

“I suspect a UFO,” she answered. “But I don’t know for sure.”

“Who else is coming?” Luke asked.

“Patricia and Creed,” Abby answered. “I saw both of them gearing up.”

“Where are they then?” Mira wondered, looking back.

“Probably getting the pilot,” Liam suggested. “I expect they’ll be here-“ the door slid open, interrupting him and Patricia, Creed and Jason walked through.

“-Soon.” Liam finished.

Patricia waved them toward the skyranger. “Load up!” She ordered. “We’re leaving now!”

“Yes, Overseer!” they shouted and fell into line behind her. The ramp hissed open and hit the floor with a loud clang. Luke took a seat beside Mira and Abby and strapped in. As the ramp closed behind him and the skyranger took off, he got the feeling that this mission wasn’t going to be like any before it.

_Bring it on, aliens._ He thought as they flew. _Bring it on._

 

 

 


	33. UFO Assault: Alien Dreadnought

 

_Skyranger, En route to Alien Dreadnaught_

All of them were silent as the skyranger tore across the skies. All of them waiting for orders from the Commander. Still, Liam felt optimistic even if he knew this mission was probably going to be more difficult than normal. The soldiers here were some of the best XCOM had to offer.

More than enough to give the aliens trouble.

All of them straightened up when the Commander began speaking. _“This is the Commander to Charger Team. Listen up.”_

No chance of that not happening. “Ready to receive, Commander,” Patricia answered. “Give us the op.”

_“That alien dreadnaught that was responsible for the Hamburg attack is back,”_ He began. Liam pursed his lips. Another terror assault, it was only a matter of time before they struck again. He looked over to see Abby tense up, clearly remembering the last time it’d happened.

“Where?” Mira asked, calm as always as she rested her elbows on her knees.

_“It was on course for Shanghai,”_ the Commander answered grimly. _“Fortunately, thanks to Zhang’s agents using an alien transmitter, it’s diverting course to the less populated Wenzhou.”_

“It hasn’t attacked yet?” Luke asked hopefully.

_“Negative,”_ the Commander confirmed. _“But it’s about forty minutes to landfall and I have no doubt it will devastate the population if it reaches it.”_

“So what are we doing?” Patricia asked, shifting in her seat. “Preparing for the alien ground assault.”

_“No,”_ the Commander stated. _“You’re going to take the dreadnaught.”_

Liam blinked. _That_ sounded like a difficult assignment if he’d ever heard one. This was assuming there was a way to board the dreadnaught, not to mention Big Sky would have to ensure that they didn’t get blown out of the sky in the process. It was a suicide mission, plain and simple. Once on board, there was no retreat, no escape.

They would take the dreadnaught or die.

No wonder the Commander had chosen them.

_“How?”_ Creed demanded. “Won’t we be shot out immediately?”

_“Chinese and Japanese forces will provide a distraction,”_ the Commander explained calmly. _“Their fighters, accompanied by a couple of our Ravens, should be enough to distract whatever AA defenses this dreadnaught has in place.”_

“They’re going to get slaughtered.” Abby said softly.

_“Once you’re inside, they’ll pull back,”_ the Commander continued. _“And yes, some will die in the process. Make good use of their sacrifice.”_

“What is the fighting force?” Patricia asked, clearly figuring how much time they’d have to sneak into position.

_“Thirty fighters, not including the Ravens,”_ the Commander answered. _“Big Sky will be able to get you into position.”_

“And where will we enter?” Creed asked, resting a hand on his laser pistol.

_“Thanks to the alien’s taking their time, Shen had found an opening.”_ A new image appeared in the upper right-hand corner of his HUD. The opening appeared to be at the end of the ship, where the engines would normally be. A potential sabotage opportunity?

“Do we have schematics from the inside?” Liam asked.

_“No,”_ the Commander answered reluctantly. _“We can only map exits and vulnerabilities.”_

_“That being said,”_ Shen interrupted. _“We’re detecting large spikes of energy coming from these six points.”_ Small bubbles of orange light appeared and, to Liam’s dismay, ran throughout the entire dreadnaught. They’d have to fight through the entire alien force to reach all of them.

“And clue as to what they are?” Luke asked. “Weapons? Power?”

_“The reading is not unlike similar signatures from the power sources we’ve recovered,”_ Shen added. _“I believe it could be a conduit of some kind.”_

“So is we take out the conduits, we down the ship.” Mira stated.

_“That would likely be the outcome,”_ Shen agreed. _“Though how to do that is a question we can’t answer without seeing it for sure.”_

“But if we do that, we don’t have any control,” Abby reminded them. “It could crash on the city!”

_“Specialist Gertrude,”_ the Commander answered grimly. _“If we don’t do anything this city is dead anyway. Try to avoid crashing the ship on Wenzhou, but it’s not your priority.”_

“Yes, Commander.” Abby sighed.

_“We’ll likely lose radio contact when you deploy,”_ the Commander informed them. _“You’ll be on your own. Take the methodical approach of needed, you won’t be able to bring the dreadnaught down if you’re dead.”_

“We’ll do our best,” Patricia assured him, clasping her hands together. “That ship will be ours.”

_“Make it so,”_ the Commander answered. _“I don’t have to say what this will mean for XCOM if you succeed.”_

_Or cost us if we fail._ Liam thought grimly.

_“Good luck, Charger Team.”_ The Commander finished. _“Citadel Command, out.”_

There was silence in the skyranger for a few minutes until Liam looked at Patricia. “Overseer, I assume you have a plan of approach?”

“We’re entering into uncharted territory,” she began, leaning forward. “The Commander is right. We can’t afford to rush, no matter what happens. They have all the advantages. This is _their_ ship. We’re not going to rush and cover all our bases. We’re not splitting up, no matter what.”

“That could leave us vulnerable to a cluster attack,” Mira pointed out. “Not to mention staying together will prevent us from taking advantage of vulnerabilities or positions.”

Liam could imagine Patricia’s scowl underneath her helm based on her tone. “I’m not talking about that. I’m referring to two groups splitting off to complete different objectives.”

Liam nodded, that made far more sense. “They’ll send everything they have once they know we’ve boarded.”

“Agreed,” Patricia nodded. “I’m not ruling out the possibility of a new alien appearing.”

“Just what we need,” Luke sighed. “I sincerely hope you’re wrong.”

Patricia snorted. “Well, yeah. I hope I’m wrong too. But I’d expect them to staff this like another terror attack. That means thin men, the armored aliens, sectoids, cyberdisks and chryssalids.”

This was shaping up so very well. Though Liam did like the name the scientists had designated for the alien animals. It fit rather well for some reason. It was probably less about which alien they would encounter as opposed to how _many_. Sheer numbers could overwhelm them eventually, even if it was just one species they encountered.

_“This is Big Sky to Charger Team,”_ they heard in their helmets. _“We’re approaching the dreadnaught. Get ready for a swift deployment.”_

“Copy,” Patricia answered. “We’ll be ready.”

They all stood and grasped their weapons. Liam felt a shift in the speed of the skyranger and assumed that it was speeding up even faster. It shook and started rattling from the turbulence.

_“The distraction has started,”_ Big Sky informed them. _“Thirty seconds. Expect turbulence.”_

Liam could hear explosions and automatic fire coming from the skies outside. The skyranger jerked up and down several times and several pops came from outside the plane.

_“Ten seconds!”_ Big Sky yelled, his voice tight with tension.

A small clock kept ticking down inside his head, time until the most difficult mission he’d ever been on. _Three, two, one_.

The ramp opened and they were greeted by gales of wind whipping around. Planes flew past them, all pursued by green plasma fire from AA turrets three times as tall as him. Ropes fell from the skyranger and Patricia charged out.

_“Deploy!”_ She shouted as one of the planes crashed into the dreadnaught with a massive explosion. Grasping the rope, she grappled down. Liam grasped the rope and looked down into the dark maw of the dreadnaught. Steeling himself, he jumped off the ramp and descended into the darkness below.

His last view of the outside was the sun rising in the distance, illuminating the planes dancing and weaving through green bursts of fire.

All in all, it was an oddly beautiful sight.

* * *

 

He hit the ground with a thud and raised his weapon immediately. At first, the whole area seemed dark, but a few seconds he was able to see throughout the small area as if the room was adjusting the brightness just high enough for him to operate. It didn’t seem natural, whatever it was.

The rest of the squad dropped behind him and looking around. From what he could tell, they appeared to have landed on a walkway of some kind. A barrier of alien metal ran along the edge, with rows of cover jutting out from the sides, all leading to a large wall with a entrance protected by a shimmering multicolored barrier like on the other UFOs.

Glancing up, the ship’s roof appeared to almost be like a dome. He could just make out the ceiling and was now aware of a persistent hum in the air. The almost invisible pulsing he remembered from the UFOs was now physically felt, like a second heartbeat.

It didn’t feel dangerous, but it was certainly…odd.

“Lock down vocoders.” Patricia ordered, raising her autolaser in preparation.

They all answered in acknowledgement and Liam carefully went up to the edge of the barrier and looked down. At first glance it appeared to be a bottomless pit, but as he looked closer in the darkness, he saw massive engines on the bottom, and who knew what other kind of machinery. No way they could sabotage this thing with the gear they had.

“Move forward,” Patricia ordered. “Set up door breach.”

“I’ll get the side,” Liam said, advancing with his weapon raised and taking a place on the left side of the shimmering field. Patricia took the right.

“Creed, Luke, get to the sides,” Patricia ordered, then pointed at the small metal rows that acted as cover. “Mira, Abby, get behind those and be ready to fire.” Each soldier got to his position and raised their weapons towards the door.

“Weapons ready.” Mira confirmed firmly.

“Opening in five,” Patricia warned, then after the allotted time had passed, she reached over and touched the shimmering field which fizzled out with an electric whir.

Nothing came out.

They waited nearly a minute with nothing. “Move forward,” Patricia murmured, swinging her weapon up as she advanced through the door. “ _Carefully._ ”

In the next room, the floor extended a short ways and had several paths leading down. One was down the middle, two others on the sides. The directions were direct and angular. There were no curves or bends, just straight ninety-degree angles. It was an odd contract to some of the more rounded edges and corners he saw elsewhere throughout the ship.

“We should take the high ground,” Mira suggested, motioning to the barrier overlooking the rest of the room. “Then move.”

“Right,” Patricia agreed. “You, Luke and Creed take the right. Everyone else with me.”

“Wait,” Liam suggested, raising a hand. “If they’re down there, they’ll see us immediately. Let’s go in low.”

“Good idea,” Patricia nodded, sinking to one knee and the rest of them followed. They still made more noise than he was comfortable with, but at least that was somewhat droned out by the constant hum and occasional noises of the ship. Liam reached the barrier and slowly rested his back against it, not daring to look over quite yet. If it came to a fight here, this wasn’t the best cover available, but it would have to do.

“Everyone in position?” Patricia asked, looking at him and Abby.

_“Affirmative,”_ Mira answered. _“Awaiting your order.”_

Patricia motioned at him. “Take a look, Liam. We’ll be ready if they spot you.”

He nodded. “Will do, initiating squadsight protocol.” With that, he gingerly peeked over and looked at the lower floor. What immediately struck him was that the floor appeared to be semi-transparent, glass interspersed with the alien metal. It was in a very symmetrical jagged design, the glass underneath was glowing blue as if it contained power.

And given the cylinder in the middle of the room, pulsing green, that might be the case. It was far larger than the power sources they’d taken from the UFOs and was more interconnected as well. Large wires and tubes connected to its base from the floor, theoretically providing it with energy.

“I’m guessing these were what Shen detected,” Liam muttered. “We could probably destroy them if we wanted.”

“Let’s make sure the room is clear first,” Patricia suggested. “Any aliens?”

“Yes,” he noted the group of six sectoids managing the power source below him. “Six sectoids. All regular variety it seems.” He scanned the rest of the room. “I don’t see any more, but once we attack they’ll be coming.”

“Are they focused up here?” Abby asked, clutching her rifle.

“No,” he murmured. “They’re focused on the power conduit.”

“Then take aim,” Patricia ordered, standing up as she lowered her autolaser at the sectoids. “Fire on my command.”

Liam heard the hiss of laser weapons being primed as each one of them marked their targets. “Fire.” Patricia growled and Liam pulled the trigger.

Six bright blasts of blood red energy rained down on the unsuspecting aliens. None of them had time to scream as the sizzling lasers burned, seared, eviscerated and dismembered their bodies. No rookies on this mission; every single shot hit an alien and six sectoid corpses, some in pieces, fell to the floor.

The noise returned to normal. “Wait for it,” Liam muttered. “They’ll be coming.”

Deep from within the ship, they heard the unnerving shriek of the thin men. “Here they come!” Luke shouted and fired a laser at four approaching figures from the right-most side ramp leading to them.

“More coming from the front!” Abby warned as she fired directly across from him as four more thin men took positions along the barrier opposite them, which also looked over the room. Green plasma fire began hitting their position and Liam ducked, scowling as the alien fire slammed into the wall behind him.

He turned around, aimed his weapon at one of the thin men and fired. The beam just missed the creature, which shrieked in return and fired back. Liam risked a glance over to the right to see Mira’s group pinning the group of thin men at a lower elevation. One had managed to get behind a large metal column, but the remaining three were cowering from the barrage of lasers.

“Got one!” Abby shouted as one of the aliens across from her fell from a laser searing it’s head.

“Luke! Grenade!” Mira ordered and Luke pulled out one frag grenade and tossed it towards the group of thin men who started running.

Just as Mira planned, and she and Creed easily sliced and burned the aliens to death, their bodies falling to the ground in pieces. That left four. Liam risked another look at the thin man across from him and lined up a much better shot. Through the sights he could see the alien scowled and firing, but he didn’t flinch as the plasma fire went past his head. Ninety percent, not worth waiting to get better.

He fired and was rewarded by his shot burning into the alien’s head and it fell back with a scream.

“Take care of that alien, Creed!” Mira ordered, motioning towards the alien pinned behind the column, the last of that group. “We’ll suppress it.”

Creed gave a nod, and keeping low, he moved along the barrier, following the path down to the alien.

“Do that again, Liam.” Patricia ordered. “Abby and I will suppress them.”

“I’ll get the left one!” Abby volunteered and began firing short bursts at the thin men, while Patricia fired a barrage of red energy towards the other one. He targeted Patricia’s first, that way she’d get a chance to recharge.

And…there.

He fired and another alien fell. “Reloading!” Patricia called out.

“I’m low as well!” Abby also informed.

Liam nodded. “I’ll suppress this last one!” Copying Abby’s strategy, he fired micro-bursts of laser fire at the alien, none of which even came close to hitting, but were dangerous enough to make the thin men keep in his hunkered position.

He heard a squeal and briefly looked over to see Creed stabbing a knife in the throat of the thin man, then blasting it’s head off with his pistol.

“Ready.” Patricia confirmed. “Lining up shot.”

Realizing it was probably going to die, the last thin man apparently thought to take one of them out with him. Shrieking one last time, it rose and aimed his weapon.

Only to be promptly blasted back by Patricia. The force from her laser blasts was enough to throw the body back into one of the towers behind it. All of them quickly reloaded during the lull, knowing that wasn’t even close to the last of them.

“Not bad,” Liam muttered. “First wave down.”

“Should we advance?” Creed asked, keeping his position where the thin man had been.

“Not yet,” Patricia advised. “Give them a minute.” They did and there still nothing but the constant humming and pulse.

“All right,” Patricia let out. “Let’s move forward, Abby, Liam. Follow me down the middle. Mira, take the right path.” They did and once they reached a little platform, probably fifteen feet above the lower floor, realized there was no way down.

“This might be a problem.” Abby muttered. Liam looked around. The aliens wouldn’t have built something like this with _no_ way to get on it, right. There had to be something he was missing. _There_. On the floor, some sort of gray disk with purple lights around it.

He cautiously walked over to it and gingerly stepped on it and shouted in surprise as he was suddenly encased in a shimmering rainbow of energy. His heart pounded for a few seconds until he realized he could still move freely.

“Liam?” Patricia called out, fear and questions mixed in her tone. He raised a hand.

“I’m alright...” he called from inside the field. “I think…” he stuck his hand outside the field to confirm he could leave it. Huh. Interesting, and oddly enough, right in front of him there was no metal barrier and it was also where the shimmering field appeared to be going. “I have an idea,” he told them. “I think this is their version of a ladder.”

“Do you know for sure?” Patricia asked, walking up beside him.

He pulled out his pistol and held it over the side. “Let me test it.” He’d briefly considered dropping himself, but if he was wrong, that’d be a stupid way to die. Luckily, he had a much better idea and dropped the weapon. It fell slowly, like a leaf until it rested softly on the matching circle below.

“I think that answers that question,” he told Patricia. “I’m going down.” She nodded.

“We’ll be right behind you.” He stepped off the edge and slowly fell to the ground. It was an odd sensation, but also an enjoyable one. He gently landed on the ground, grabbed his pistol and holstered it.

Then froze as heard head a fain mechanical whirring. Luke’s shout confirmed it.

“Cyberdisk!” He shouted. Liam looked up to see one of the floating disks, flanked by three drones, flying towards them from the opposing wall. He was completely exposed

“Fire!” He heard Patricia call and looked around frantically for cover. Unfortunately, the only cover close enough was that alien conduit. He looked up to see the cyberdisk taking fire from all the soldiers, though the drones were firing back. He took a deep breath and dashed towards the power conduit.

With a hiss and groaning metal, the cyberdisk transformed into the killing machine he knew so well and fired at him. The ground below him sparked with the sizzling rounds hitting around his feet and with a lunge he dived to cover. But not quite quick enough as several of the rounds tore through his leg and he shouted him pain.

_“Liam!”_ Patricia called. _“Status!”_

“I’m alive,” he answered, gritting his teeth as the cyberdisk let out another volley. “But it got my leg.” He tested moving it and found it impossible. “I’m stuck here.”

“Get it while it’s open!” Mira yelled and more lasers fired over him.

He heard the clicks as the cyberdisk closed back up. Ok, no time to waste. He looked at the conduit, trying to find some way to disable it. He grasped some wires and pulled, and while the green light dimmed, it recovered after a few seconds. He pulled out his laser pistol. Time to take a more direct approach.

He took aim at the largest cords and fired a sustained beam through them. He did the same with each cord he saw until there were only smoldering wires remaining. The entire ship shuddered as the green light dimmed and the pulsing stopped briefly, then resumed a few seconds later.

“Got the conduit.” He said, looking at his leg now residing in a pool of blood. “Will try to get to a more defensible position.”

“ _Above you!”_ Abby yelled and he looked up to see two drone above him. He scowled. There was no way he was going to be killed by _drones_. He raised his rifle and promptly blasted them out of the air. As the wrecks clanged to the ground, he began moving himself around, groaning as his leg ground against the floor which had lost it’s blue energy.

He heard the cyberdisk firing at them and looked up and saw Patricia and Abby under fire. But the cyberdisk was exposed. He raised his weapon and took aim at the center. One shot should tear through it.

“Ah!” he choked as _something_ wrapped itself around his neck and pulled his arms back, effectively restraining him. A seeker materialized in front of him, it’s mouth in front of his mask, spewing black mist that clogged up his filters, effectively choking him even as the tentacle around his throat tightened.

“Seekers!” He called out, frantically as air continued to leave him and the black mist covered up his visor. “Seekers are here!”

The alien machine had apparently had enough and tightened further. Choking and gasping Liam finally lost consciousness and died seconds later. With it’s target down, the Seeker let his corpse fall to the floor and flew off to the next victim.

* * *

 

_“Liam!”_ Luke heard Abby scream as the seeker dropped his body to the ground. Damn it! He couldn’t think of that now, if there was one seeker, there were more.

“Get rid of that cyberdisk!” Patricia ordered furiously.

“Cover me.” Mira told him as she reached for her rocket launcher. He stood and began firing at the cyberdisk, while Patricia and Abby did the same.

“Behind you!” Abby yelled at Patricia as another seeker materialized behind her. She swung her weapon up behind her, slamming into the seeker which few back in surprise. A laser beam from Abby tore into it and it fell to the ground, sparking.

“Firing rocket!” Mira called, the rocket launcher resting on her shoulder. The rocket shot out and slammed into the cyberdisk with a brilliant explosion. Pieces of metal and yellow fluid rained down on the floor below, though the battle wasn’t over yet. The seeker that had killed Liam was hovering above them, taking ineffective shots with it’s small plasma weapon. The combined fire from Abby and Patricia ended it quickly.

“Ah! Need some help!” Creed called from the column just below them. He was trying to throw off another seeker, but was failing as the tentacles wrapped around his wrists and neck. Luke raised his rifle and fired several quick bursts at the machine. Both hit, though they weren’t enough to kill it.

However, it was enough for Creed to shake free and slam the butt of his rifle into the seeker and jump back before it struck again. The seeker did fling another tentacle at him, but was promptly blasted in it’s face with a sizzling laser and collapsed to the ground.

“Luke!” Mira called as another seeker appeared behind her, grabbing from behind. He snarled. Oh no, this seeker wasn’t getting anywhere near her. He shot it in where he assumed the head was and kept the beam sustained for good measure, even after it fell to the ground.

The beam ceased as his weapon ran out of energy. Scowling, he quickly swapped out the power packs and raised his weapon again, looking for any more seekers. But the area seemed clear. Again. He gripped his SMG intently, there had to be more coming. Or maybe they were just waiting for them to advance.

“Move forward,” Patricia ordered, her and Abby moving to the ground floor using that alien anti-gravity machine. Luckily, Mira, Creed and him didn’t need to use that and just followed the ramp to the ground.

The alien ship was sturdy, he could give them that. Despite all the wreckage and bodies littering the ground, the floor seemed perfectly sound and unscratched. The transparent substance didn’t appear to be chipped or broken at all, despite the warped and sharp shrapnel littering the area.

Abby was kneeling over Liam’s body near the power conduit, not trying any sort of revival technique, just placing to fingers on his throat to check for his pulse.

“Can you help him?” Patricia asked, as gently as he’d ever heard her.

Abby rose, looking down at the body. “Maybe if I’d been here when he passed out. No. He’d dead.” She seemed on the verge of tears. Luke had some idea of how she felt, but this had to be difficult. He knew both of them had been close friends.

“I’m sorry,” Patricia continued gently. “But we have to go on. We’ll come back for the body.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I know.”

“We knew it was possible everyone wasn’t coming back.” Creed stated. “We can’t dwell on it.”

Luke shot him a glare. “Not now,” he muttered to the SEAL. “She knows.”

“She better,” he responded, at least keeping his voice down. “We can’t afford to have her distracted the rest of the mission.”

Patricia looked over the power conduit. “Looks like all we have to do is cut the power. Well, one down, five to go.”

Luke looked up the massive wall leading further into the ship. There seemed no way to get up it aside from using those anti-gravity devices that were interspersed on the right, middle and left before the wall.

All of them walked towards the middle one and stood around it. “I’ll go,” Luke volunteered. “If there’s a trap, I’m the fastest.”

Patricia nodded. “Go ahead.”

He stepped onto the circle and was immediately surrounded by the shimmering field. Hm, now how did this work did he wait or jump. As an experiment, he pushed himself off a little and was immediately propelled upward. It was oddly exiting, like flying without fear of falling. The field propelled him forward once he reached the top and he came to a gentle stop on the ground.

“I’m up.” He called down to them. “It seems to be clear.” He looked around at the new layout. There were three…he supposed the best description was towers, in a row overlooking another power conduit. The floor where the conduit was built _was_ at a lower elevation, though not to the extent the first one had been. The four paths between the towers all had ramps leading down to the power conduit, which like the first one, had the same odd floor.

The rest of the squad was on the wall now and took positions behind the towers. Patricia took a quick look at the area. “One soldier per tower. Mira, Abby, Creed, each of you take one. Me and Luke will go ahead.” They all nodded and moved to get on top of the towers.

“We’re ready,” Mira confirmed after a minute. “You’re covered.”

Autolaser and SMG raised, the two soldiers slowly advanced onto the glowing floor. Their clicking boots were the only sound other than the consistent hum and pulse. “This is too quiet.” Luke muttered.

“Not much we can do about that,” Patricia grunted. “Just be vigilant.”

They reached the power conduit without issues and Patricia looked at the thing. “Strange,” she murmured. “There should be some sort of interface.”

Luke took a look at the machinery and wires and shrugged. “Liam just cut the wires. We should just do the same.”

“No,” she continued, her hand moving over the conduit. “It has one somewhere…” she jerked her hand back as a small purple rectangle appeared, projected from a light on the conduit.

“How did you know?” Luke asked as he peered at the hologram. It was made up of two dozen tiles, each with some sort of alien symbol on each. Their equivalent of password protection, he supposed.”

“Lucky guess,” she answered, sounding distracted. “I knew the aliens had to have a failsafe somewhere.” She looked back at the towers. “We still clear!” She called.

“ _Confirmed_ ,” Creed answered. “ _No aliens in sight.”_

Patricia turned her attention back to the interface. “Well, what now?” Luke asked, trying to figure out some kind of code. “I’m not sure guessing is the right idea. They might have rigged it.”

“See that shimmering one?” She asked, pointing to one of the tiles. Luke frowned.

“No, it looks the same as the others,” he peered at her. “Are you sure.”

“Yes,” she insisted. “Ok, it might not be shimmering, but it’s…distorted. Different from the rest.”

He took a hard look at it and shook his head. “I still see nothing.”

He could imagine her scowls. “It’s simple. All you have to do is this.” She reached over and tapped six of the buttons in a row. A few seconds later the Luke could audibly hear the conduit power down and the green energy faded from it gradually. He looked down at his feet and saw the blue light recede as well.

“How did you do that?” He demanded in amazement.

She stepped back, surprise coloring her voice. “I…don’t know.” She looked at her hand and the interface. “I don’t know.” She repeated tonelessly. He eyed her with concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “That…wasn’t normal.”

She nodded vigorously. “Yeah, I’m fine. This place…” she shook her head. “Let’s get this done-“

“Chryssalids incoming!” Abby shouted and Luke turned to see the purple animals charging out of two doors that had bridges that connected to the platform. He kept a mental count in his head and stopped at ten. Enough to cause problems.

“Fire!” Patricia ordered and swung her autolaser towards the swarm. More lasers rained down from the towers and several Chryssalids let out bestial screams and fell dead.

“Use the laser trap on the right group!” Patricia ordered, turning her laser towards the left pod approaching him. “We’ll get the right!”

The laser trap was a technique used in dealing with chryssalids. Inspired when the Commander had used a sustained beam to kill two who’d just run into them, the laser trap employed the same concept. Two or more soldiers would use their weapons to fire sustained beams in front of the chryssalids, forcing them to run forward and kill themselves.

Luke waited until most of the group was approaching him, then jumped to the side and fired a sustained beam, trapping them diagonally. Patricia fired into the midst of them, forcing them to scatter. Fortunately, these were creatures of instinct, not intelligence and instead of retreating, they kept charging forward, trying to avoid Patricia’s laser. 

And they ran directly into his beam, two died on the spot, two were killed by Patricia and one managed to avoid death and leapt over the beam. Spittle flying from it’s mouth, it charged him, it’s claws rapidly tapping the ground. Forgoing trying to reload, he reached for his pistol and dodged to the side as the animal leapt at him.

Screeching, it readied for another attack, but he fired another sustained beam and sliced it’s head off. The corpse collapsed to the ground and he looked over to see the dismembered bodies of the other chryssalids littering the ground.

_“Looks like that-“_

“Creed! Get down!” Patricia yelled and Creed wasted no time and flung himself to the ground, just as cyberdisk rounds hissed over the area where he’d been standing. Luke immediately took cover behind the power conduit and Patricia did the same.

_“Where the hell did that come from?”_ Creed shouted as he was likely moving to safer cover. _“Didn’t we clear the area behind us?”_

“Maybe it’s late to the party?” Patricia suggested as all of them began firing on the new threat. “It’s a special little disk.”

_“Are you seriously making a joke?”_ Creed demanded furiously. _“This is blatant cheating!”_

_“This is war,”_ Mira interrupted as she fired several bursts at the disk. _“There are no rules.”_

The disk was smoking from all the wounds it had suffered. It was still firing, but it couldn’t seem to decide at whom. “I think it’s almost down.” Patricia called. “Creed?”

_“With pleasure,”_ Creed rose to a crouched position and threw a grenade at the disk. _“Burn in Hell, cyberdisk!”_ The explosion that followed was enough to send the cyberdisk careening down and it probably crashed near the first power conduit.

Luke took a breath. “That was odd.”

“At least it was only one,” Patricia reminded him. “It could have been worse.” She turned as she heard alien growls and five floaters suddenly came roaring out the door, weapons blazing and Luke and Patricia quickly ducked behind the metal barriers.

They didn’t waste time trying to get flanks, two flew directly to Creed’s tower, dodging all the laser fire directed at them. Luke heard a roar as one crashed out of the sky, but watched in horror as Creed was shot in the arm by one of the floaters though both were quickly killed soon after.

The last two took a more measured and defensive approach, shooting plasma down on them while moving quickly in all directions to avoid laser fire. But they were essentially trapped and couldn’t outlast the barrage of lasers forever and were sliced and burned one at a time.

Luke quickly reloaded his weapon, ready for more to come. All of them waited for at least five minutes with nothing coming out. “We’ll go in on the right one.” Patricia finally ordered, walking towards the rightmost entrance. “Creed? What’s your status?”

“It certainly doesn’t feel good,” he muttered, walking up to her clutching his arm. Luke saw that the armor had been burned away and the skin underneath was blistered and raw. It was very similar to an acid wound.

“Let me look at that,” Abby interjected, walking up with a med-kit in hand. “This should help.” She said as she sprayed the fine blue mist on it.

Creed hissed as it made contact. “Ahh, I _really_ hope this is helping.”

He imagines Abby rolling her eyes at that. “Wimp. Next time fix the wound yourself. Rub some dirt on it or something.”

“You try getting shot with this and then having fire sprayed on you.” Creed defended, a little less tense. “But it’s better now, thanks.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Patricia interrupted, motioning towards the door. “We move on.” All of them began moving down the bridge, weapons raised and stopping just before the entrance.

“Proceed carefully,” Patricia emphasized as they moved down the corridor. It seemed there was another bridge that connected this corridor to the one on the other side.

“Power conduit spotted,” Mira pointed at the power conduit by another entrance on a small elevated platform. There was a suspicious lack of enemies, but there wasn’t much they could do about that.

“Creed, Mira. Watch this corridor,” Patricia ordered, gesturing towards the bridge connecting the two sides. They both nodded and took positions.

“I’ll scout ahead,” Luke said, pointing at the conduit. “You can watch the entrance.”

“Stay here, Abby,” Patricia ordered and walked with him towards the conduit. Luke looked into the area and still saw nothing. Walking up to the conduit, he began looking for that interface.

“Patricia,” he called. “Remember how-“

He screamed as three bolts of plasma tore into his chest from _above_. The force threw him to the ground and he gasped as the plasma ate into him.

Of course. He was such an idiot. He collapsed to the ground, his chest completely destroyed as the green-armored creatures dropped around him. “Go!” He screamed at Patricia who looked ready to take them all herself. “GO!” He yelled again as the aliens raised their weapons.

“I’m sorry!” She yelled as she ran back to cover. The alien stood over him, bestial anger and triumph in his eyes and it shot him twice in the chest again and turned away, effectively considering him finished.

And he was. He knew that. Even if they somehow managed to beat these…four, five? He couldn’t tell anymore. He was only aware of his fading heartrate and determination to save as many as he could.

“Mira,” he managed. “Remember…?”

_“Yes,”_ He heard her, her voice frantic. _“But you don’t-”_

“I’ll be dead by the time you win,” he managed. “Make my death mean something. Please.”

_“Damn you!”_ She shouted, he actually thought she was in tears. Funny that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his vision fading. “But I know you’ll do what’s necessary. Kill some aliens for me.”

_“Forgive me,”_ Mira whispered. _“I’m sorry.”_

There was a brief flash of light and then he felt nothing at all.

* * *

 

The explosion killed two of the armored aliens instantly, but it was the explosion of the power conduit itself that killed the remainder of the alien force. The green shockwave disintegrated everything within a fifteen-foot radius. Nothing remained, no aliens, no armor, weapons.

Or bodies.

She looked at the detonator in her hand and let it slip from her fingers. The clack it made when it hit echoed loudly in the non-quiet area. She was hollow, she felt nothing now, just a large gaping hole where her heart should have been. Luke had shown her that still existed inside her, the part where she could care.

And now her only reason to open up had been killed. By her own hand.

“Mira…” Abby asked tentatively. “What did you do?”

“We agreed,” she answered tonelessly, only half-hearing what was being said. “If he was trapped and no way of surviving…” Her vision turned watery and she realized there were tears in her eyes. Odd how she didn’t notice until now.

“You _blew him up_?” Patricia half yelled, half questioned. _“_ What the hell were you thinking?! _How?_ ”

“Yes!” She whirled on Patricia. “Yes! Yes I did! Don’t remind me, please! But it’s what he wanted!”

“I don’t _care_ if that’s what he wanted,” Patricia snarled, jabbing a finger at her. “You do _not_ have the right to kill _our_ people just because you have some sort of “agreement” or there was “No hope of survival.”!”

“I had more right than you!” Mira yelled, grateful for the helmet as more tears came down. “You think I _wanted_ this?”

“Why?” Patricia demanded. “We could have saved him!”

“He would have been dead!” Mira protested.

“Do you know for certain?” Patricia shouted back, waving her hand at the conduit. “Do you?”

“No!” Mira snapped back, fists clenching. “I made the best choice with what information I had!”

“It _wasn’t your call_.” Patricia repeated furiously. _“I_ am the one who should have decided that.”

“No,” Mira stated firmly. “Not with this.”

Patricia shook her head in disgust. “And I thought you actually cared about him.”

Mira stormed up and slammed the butt of her rifle in Patricia’s face. Mira didn’t press as Patricia stumbled back. “Don’t you dare suggest I felt otherwise, Trask,” she snarled. “You have no idea. You know nothing about me, him, or sacrifice. Court-marshal me if you want, but don’t you fucking suggest I didn’t care!”

“Enough!” Abby interrupted raising her hand and stepping between them. “We need to finish.” She stated, gesturing towards the other corridor. “The aliens are probably preparing.”

“Agreed,” Mira stated icily, calming down some and stormed through the corridor without waiting for the rest of them. She pitied any alien foolish enough to cross her path. She heard the clicking of boots behind her as the rest of them caught up, but she was too intently focused on in front. Remembering what had happened, she looked up and saw the aliens waiting up top in ambush.

“There they are.” She snarled and pointed, she holstered her rifle and pulled out her rocket launcher. Taking aim at the platform above, she fired the rocket which blew it up in a fiery explosion. The aliens roared and screamed and fell to their deaths in a rain of twisted metal and blood.

One of the aliens, armor batter and arms coated in blood, attempted to stand up and was promptly executed by Mira with a shot to the head. They waited several seconds for any counter-attack, but there seemed to be none waiting for them. They advanced cautiously until they were by the power conduit, scraped and splattered in yellow blood.

“You can disable it?” Mira asked her calmly, as Patricia walked up to it and waved her hand around it. A purple interface with alien symbols appeared. Patricia examined them for a moment.

“I think so,” she answered. “Do you see any shimmering ones?”

Mira squinted and leaned in. She glanced at Patricia and shook her head. “No. It’s all one uniform color.”

“Strange,” Patricia muttered, seemingly half to herself. “Something is wrong.” She began tapping on the symbols in what appeared to be a random order and the conduit shut down a few seconds later.

“How are you doing that?” Abby asked. “Did you take a linguistics course or something?”

“I don’t know,” Patricia shrugged. “This ship is affecting my mind somehow. We need to finish.”

She motioned to the door that was protected by another shimmering field. “We breach that door, we only have two more to go.” She and Patricia took up positions on opposing sides of the door with Abby and Creed behind them.

“Ready?” Patricia asked.

“Do it.” Mira nodded, readying her weapon.

Patricia reached over and the field dissipated. Revealing a group of sectoids and one of the mechanized ones. They screeched once they saw them and scattered like beetles. The mechanized one raised it’s guns and fired a barrage of green plasma which scorched the metal beside them.

Patricia blasted the mech with her autolaser, her red pulses searing new scorch marks into it’s chrome armor. But this unit seemed better protected as the lasers didn’t penetrate right away. A metal helm clamped over it’s exposed face, removing any chance of exploiting _that_ vulnerability.

“Grenade!” Creed called and snuck behind Mira to toss one towards the mech. The explosion did appear to damage it, if the smoke and sparks were anything to go by. That also gave Abby and Creed a chance to charge through the entrance and take cover behind one of the barriers.

Just in time too, as the sectoids had gotten into position and were starting to fire.

More plasma fire flew towards their position, most of it inaccurate, but enough of a distraction to worry. Mira blinked at she saw purple energy consolidating around the far sectoid’s head.

“Psionic attack!” She warned, firing a stray beam at the sectoid, which missed of course. But the alien thrust it’s head forward not at them, but at the mech. The mech’s form was suddenly blurred as a swirling transparent force field appeared around it. Viewing the mech now was similar to looking at something through rushing water. Tangible, but blurry and unfocused. She fired a laser beam and it reflected into the roof.

She scowled. She didn’t have time for this. Pulling out a grenade, she tossed it towards the alien projecting the psionic shield. It began to scatter and she fired a sustained beam in front of it and watched in satisfaction as the alien beheaded itself walking forward.

The mech stumbled as the psionic field dissipated and all the soldiers fired their laser weapons at it. It stumbled and sparked and finally collapsed with a blast of white energy. The three remaining sectoids still fired at them, though they were furiously chittering to each other.

“Another one coming up!” Abby shouted and Mira swung her weapon around to see another mech charging toward them, flanked by two more sectoids. Creed sniped one of them and it collapsed with a squeal. The mech wasted no time and laid down a barrage of suppressive fire on Patricia.

“Psionics!” Creed yelled and she looked over to see one of the sectoids consolidating energy around it’s head and thrusting it towards Abby. The purple strand of energy hit her and Mira heard her snarl.

“Get out of my head!” Abby screamed and fired several quick bursts at the sectoids. One connected and sliced the alien in two. Mira reached for her rocket launcher and loaded up her last rocket. Aiming it at the mech, she fired and it exploded into bits of metal and flesh.

Only sectoids remained. She snarled and charged their position. Plasma fire flew past her head, barely missing, but she didn’t care. One struck her chest, but it wasn’t enough to penetrate it. She grabbed the sectoid by it’s scrawny neck and stabbed her knife into it’s eye and dragged down. Pulling it out, bits of the eye still clinging to it, she then slit it’s throat, coving her hand in yellow blood.

Finished with that one, she tossed the light corpse towards the next nearest one which scampered out of the way to avoid being hit. She leapt onto the scampering creature, pinning it to the ground under her boots. She quickly raised her boot and squished it’s head like an insect until it’s skull cracked and it’s head was unrecognizable mush.

Fury tinging her vision, she looked up to see the squad had taken care of the last sectoid. She flipped her knife in her hand, almost hoping there was one more. She _needed_ to kill something else.

“Mira!” Abby called. “Calm down!”

Somehow, the words penetrated her haze and she shook her head and slowly relaxed. The rest of the squad was coming up by her and Abby put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, you alright?”

“No,” she admitted, adrenaline fading. “I’m not.”

“Let’s wrap up,” Patricia ordered. “Only two more. Let’s crash this ship.”

Patricia and Creed went over to shut it down while Abby and Mira stood, weapons raised for anything out of the ordinary. This seemed to be the end of the road. There was another exit further in, but the force field was missing, indicating all the alien reinforcements had come through.

Mira looked over at Abby and froze. The red dot of a sniper laser was centered directly on her chest.

Without thinking, she shoved her aside, bringing herself in line with the shot. The blast that followed tore into her upper chest, the force throwing her to the ground.

“Sniper!” Abby called out as another plasma bolt tore into Mira’s throat.

Quickly losing air and pushing through the haze of pain, she looked up and focused her visor on where the shot was coming from. She couldn’t get a clear picture, but it appeared to be one of the thin man snipers. Just her luck.

Her vision fading to black, she realized she didn’t regret her choice. Abby was a decent woman to save, certainly better than her. Besides, at least this way, she wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of losing someone all over again.

Pros and cons. But in this case she felt it may have turned out for the better.

She supposed there were worse ways to go out.

With what little strength she had left, she raised her pistol and fired one final sustained beam, sweeping it in the direction of the thin man. With her final shot complete, her hand dropped the pistol and fell limp to the ground as she breathed her last.

* * *

 

Patricia watched in amazement as the woman who’d been shot twice in the throat managed to fire off one last shot. It didn’t kill the thin man, but it did wound it if the scream was anything to go by.

She scowled as she quickly focused on the power conduit as Creed and Abby fired at hopefully the last alien on the ship. The interface opened again and the buzzing in her head increased. This was different from the constant humming and pulsing. It had started when they’d landed and had only grown worse the further they’d gone in.

This ship was messing with her head. Was she going crazy? But certain symbols on the interface still shimmered when she looked at them and pressing them in the flashing pattern indicated shut it down.

How could she possibly know that?

But what had been most disturbing was that each time she’d shut down the conduit, the buzzing had ceased and consolidated into one word that appeared in her head in the alien symbols yet she somehow could translate.

And this time?

_Disappointing._

The word echoed in her mind and she didn’t disagree. Mira lying on the floor was proof of that, but she couldn’t dwell on it. She scowled and pushed the thought from her mind. Peeking out from the conduit, she saw the sniper on one knee, taking more shots.

Frighteningly accurate ones if truth be told. The bolts of plasma whizzed past Abby and Creed uncomfortably close to their heads.

She swung her weapon around and unleashed a barrage of energy on her own. Most of the bolts missed but by some miracle one slammed into it’s arm. It shrieked and another beam from Abby hit it in the chest.

It collapsed to one knee and Abby and Creed blasted their weapons at it, slicing the remaining alien into pieces. Patricia took the chance to dash over to the final conduit and brought up the interface which she memorized by now.

With eerily-familiar movements, she followed the flashing sequence and the conduit powered down and the ship shuddered.

“We did it!” Creed shouted as the ship began shuddering.

“It’s going down!” Patricia yelled as she felt her stomach dropping and the ship dipped forward. “Brace yourselves!”

She kneeled in front of the power conduit, trying to concentrate on staying steady, the constant shaking or the conscious dip in altitude. But not the new word that appeared in her mind.

_Potential._

Whatever was happening to her, she didn’t want to know at the moment. She wanted off this ship as soon as possible and whatever alien disease had affected her. She clutched one of the cords as the shaking worsened and the floor was almost at a forty-five degree dip.

After what felt like hours, a collision louder than any she’d heard before registered and she almost lost her grip as the dreadnaught tossed and turned in the crash. She screamed and held on for dear life as the rattling in her armor and helmet threatened to give her a concussion.

Then it stopped.

Unsteady on her feet, she stumbled forward, finding it difficult to believe it was over. She looked around and saw Abby and Creed slowly rising to their feet.

“We did it.” Creed repeated numbly. “We brought down the dreadnaught.”

“We did,” Patricia repeated looking around. At the alien corpses, as well as Mira’s. Sure, they’d won.

But it hadn’t been without a price.

And as she looked around the devastated ship, she sincerely hoped that it was worth the cost of three excellent soldiers. Even if she hadn’t agreed or even particularly liked all of them, each had displayed courage and heroism that needed to be commended.

They deserved to be remembered and honored, and she would do her part to ensure they were.

It was the least she could do.

* * *

 

After-Action Report

Operation: Gangplank

_Personnel:_

Charger 1 ( _Squad Overseer_ ): Patricia Trask

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 9

Charger 2: Specialist Mira Vauner

            **Status:** Deceased

**Kills:** 15

Charger 3: Specialist Liam Jaster

            **Status:** Deceased

**Kills:** 5

Charger 4: Specialist Abigail Gertrude

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 9

Charger 5: Specialist Anius Creed

            **Status:** Active

**Kills:** 8

Charger 6: Specialist Luke Warner

            **Status:** Deceased

**Kills:** 14

 

Mission Director: The Commander

Pilot: Jason Olgard: Call sign – “Big Sky”

 

_Artifacts Recovered:_

-12x Sectoid Corpses (Moderate Condition)

-8x Thin Men Corpses (Moderate Condition)

-2x Alien Sectoid Mech Corpses (Moderate Condition)

-3x Drone Wrecks (Moderate Condition)

-5x Alien Shock Trooper Corpses (Moderate Condition)

-5x Seeker Wrecks (Moderate Condition)

-10x Chryssalid Corpses (Usable Condition)

-2x Cyberdisk Wrecks (Moderate Condition)

-5x Floater Corpses (Moderate Condition)

-1x Thin Man Sniper Corpse (Moderate Condition)

-1500x Alien Alloys (Stripped from UFO0

-4x Advanced Alien Power Sources

-2x Advanced Alien Power Sources (Damaged)

-2x Alien Fusion Power Sources

-300x Alien Weapon Fragments

-6x Advanced Alien Flight Computers

-16x Canisters of Unidentified Alien Substance

-400x Unidentified Alien Energy Substance

 

 

 


	34. Council Report: July

 

_The Citadel, Situation Room_

“The survivors of Charger Team are on their way back,” Bradford updated while the Commander watched the screen showing the devastation of the crash. Despite how pleased he was that they’d been able to bring it down, this was not going to be easy to turn into a political victory. After the team had deployed, the dreadnaught had kept going until it was over a large part of the city.

No alien soldiers had deployed, as they were likely fighting inside. But the dreadnaught had started firing on the city. Despite telling the fighters to pull back, the Chinese had elected to stay and send more bombers with them. A monumentally stupid idea, but the Chinese representative they’d spoken to had been adamant.

Naturally, they didn’t do a bit of damage and most of them were blasted out of the sky. Though they did manage to divert some of the fire from the city. That being said, it wasn’t much and the dreadnaught had leveled what appeared to be roughly one sixteenth of the city until it had suddenly lost energy and began plummeting down.

Unfortunately, it had been hovering over the city when it had happened and the ensuing crash had taken out another significant portion of the city. Van Doorn was compiling a preliminary casualty report, but he didn’t expect anything under half a million casualties. Not exactly something the Chinese or Council would be particularly happy about.

Well, it was a sad event, but unavoidable in this case and a devastating blow to the aliens in the process. He had no intention of apologizing to anyone, especially since that mission had claimed the lives of some of his best soldiers. He pursed his lips. He’d have to find replacements to cover his losses, and with the very public destruction of the dreadnaught, he imagined he wouldn’t have to look hard.

And there was absolutely no way he was going to allow the Chinese to take credit for this. XCOM wasn’t a secret anymore, anyone of note knew who they were and he saw no reason to hide what really happened. The world didn’t need to know who was in charge or funding it, but the soldiers who sacrificed themselves deserved to be honored.

One short statement would be sufficient, put out before anyone else commented on it. He draft one up and have Bradford distribute it to the news stations around the world. Once enough people got ahold of it, the Chinese, or anyone else, would be hard pressed to dispute it.

He scratched his head and sighed. “Do you have an estimate?” He asked Van Doorn, looking over at the General who was tapping on his tablet.

He pursed his lips. “Not confirmed yet, but the current estimated casualties are above three hundred thousand and are expected to rise.”

“Unfortunate,” he shrugged, resigned. “But unavoidable. We succeeded and that’s all that matters.”

“I hope the Council sees it like that.” Shen muttered.

“They have no choice,” the Commander stated. “We saved millions more with what we did. If not for us, Shanghai would have been targeted first and leveled the city. Even here we did save the majority of people. It wasn’t ideal, but nothing ever is.”

“The Councilors are driven by emotion,” Zhang reminded him. “I’m not sure all of them will see it like that.”

“Undoubtedly,” the Commander agreed. “But I’m not concerned with them. Anyone who sees this as anything but a victory is a fool. People die in war. Perhaps this will drive that point home.”

“In the case of public opinion,” Van Doorn interjected. “I think that anything boost we gain from downing the dreadnaught will be canceled out by the collateral damage. People usually don’t care about the theoretical number of saved lives.”

The Commander shrugged. “I’m not concerned about public opinion. Civilians don’t understand war and never will. Anything they say in protest will be superficial.”

“I shouldn’t be dismissed completely,” Van Doorn warned. “If enough people make enough noise, it might draw the attention of those with authority.”

“Perhaps,” the Commander admitted, gazing at the screen again. “But I’ll deal with that when the time comes. There are far more pressing concerns than the opinions of a few on the internet.” He glanced over at Vahlen. “Has Artifact Recovery finished?”

She walked over and handed him her tablet displaying a list. “We’ve recovered everything of value. All corpses, power systems and weapons are collected. Contaminating the entire ship is not practical, but I could have them contaminate as much as possible before the Chinese attempt to secure the craft.”

“It won’t be nearly enough to deny the Chinese the materials,” Van Doorn pointed out grimly, shaking his head. “If you want to deny the Chinese of Council alien materials, there are better methods.”

The Commander looked over at him. “Such as?” He asked curiously.

“Turn this as contested as possible,” Van Doorn suggested. “Tie up the resources between claims from multiple different countries. Turn the bureaucracy against them.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea at all. In fact, it was brilliant and he could potentially see several ways to implement it. “The wreckage would have to be secured by a neutral power,” he mused. “And they would have to move immediately before the Chinese come.”

“NATO?” Bradford suggested, looking up from his tablet. “If enough nations make a claim, they would be the best to prevent any country from marching in and stripping the craft.”

“I could make some calls,” Van Doorn suggested. “But we’d have to do this officially, and that means filing a report with the United Nations itself, _not_ the Council. That will force the Chinese to do this formally as well and allow NATO to be sent in to guard the craft.”

“Would they even accept our claim?” the Commander questioned, frowning at the General. “We’re an organization, not a country.”

Van Doorn snorted. “Of course not, with a matter as serious as this, a claim from XCOM would be dismissed almost instantly. That’s why we need another country to make a claim as well.”

“What claim do you anticipate China will make?” Vahlen asked.

“The strongest weapon they have is that it was _their_ country that the dreadnaught crashed in,” Van Doorn answered, pursing his lips. “They’ll also no doubt bring up all the damage that was caused as well as the soldiers who died in the process.”

“Got it,” the Commander muttered triumphantly. “We have three soldiers of different nationalities who died bringing the dreadnaught down. Following that logic, Israel, Germany and Russia could lay claims on the wreckage as well.”

“Technically, that’s true,” Van Doorn agreed tentatively. “But realistically, China does have the strongest claim.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zhang interjected, his tone amused. “All we need is to tie them up in red tape. I could send my people to contaminate or recover anything valuable in the months it takes them to solve this.”

“Japan also loaned some fighters to the attack,” the Commander recalled. “They could also lay a claim.” He turned to Bradford. “Get in contact with Israel and Germany, let them know what they can do. Zhang, have your people make the same suggestions to Russia and Japan. Once you finish, Bradford, submit our claim as well.”

“Will Russia and Japan even consider it?” Vahlen asked curiously. “Their claims will be limited at best, and will look opportunist at worst. The Council may not let them.”

“A few reasons,” the Commander answered. “The most obvious is that it’ll increase their political status and power within the Council. If they have materials no other nation has, they have leverage over every other Council member. Which is what _all_ of them want. Another reason is that this gives them a chance to boost their own technology for very little cost and effort. The few they lost is a small price to pay for alien tech.”

“This also has the benefit of dividing the Council,” Zhang pointed out, satisfied. “If they start a legal war over resources, that will mean more focus on each other instead of us, and may open them up to better negotiations from us.”

“The dreadnaught _has_ given us a substantial surplus,” Shen said thoughtfully. “Perhaps we could use that.”

“We would be accused of bribery,” the Commander pointed out, shaking his head. “Besides, there are very few nations I would trust handing this over to them. Japan is not among them.”

“Why not?” Van Doorn asked. “Because of their proximity to China?”

“And their alliance with them,” the Commander amended. “If Japan gets alien tech I would bet China would be getting some as well.”

“And what of Russia?” Vahlen asked, looking down at the holotable. “Even if they don’t win the claim, they’ll probably get something.”

“Russia will have to be dealt with when that happens,” the Commander stated. “But I would expect them to keep whatever they receive to themselves. They won’t share with the Council unless forced, and the Council wouldn’t risk alienating them.”

Shen let out a sigh. “The Council is not going to be happy regardless.”

“ _Yes_ , because their happiness is my primary concern,” the Commander answered sarcastically. “No doubt they also believe I intentionally crashed the dreadnaught into the city.” He shook his head, tone more serious. “Honestly, I don’t expect the Council’s opinion of me or XCOM to have changed. They could try to somehow blame the gridlock on me, but it would be a waste of time.”

“I do think you have to consider they could make demands,” Van Doorn warned. “China is a superpower, one with enough leverage to potentially sway the Council into demanding more oversight.”

“Why?” the Commander wondered. “They know I would just ignore it.”

“Which would play into their story of a rogue, uncontrolled force,” Shen contested. “You refusing oversight would only give their arguments weight.”

“The problem is that I’ve done nothing wrong,” the Commander protested, raising an eyebrow at Shen. “I was given command of XCOM and one order: Do whatever was necessary to defend humanity. If certain councilors are…unhappy….with the results, then they have no one to blame but themselves. They knew _exactly_ what they were getting.”

“And it’s possible they now might view that as a mistake,” Bradford pointed out. “More oversight would be more of an attempt to fix it.”

The Commander shrugged. “If that happens, I’ll simply pay a visit to a few more councilors. I’ve gotten results which is what they wanted. XCOM does not require more oversight.”

“The only reason oversight will hinder us is because we haven’t exactly be discussing, planning and executing legal plans,” Shen recalled pointedly. “The only thing oversight would enforce is the actual laws of the UN.”

“And that is the _problem,_ ” the Commander breathed out, frustrated. “If we fight a sanitized war, we will lose. I won’t let that happen.”

“We may not have a choice,” Van Doorn said, looking down grimly. “Especially if China threatened to pull their funding. Not to mention their influence on Council and non-Council nations. They’re an economic and military superpower and they know it.”

“Let’s wait until after the inevitable Council call before jumping to conclusions,” Bradford interrupted. “See on how that goes, _then_ we make plans.”

“Sounds reasonable,” the Commander nodded. “But I’m not expecting much.”

“Have some faith,” Van Doorn insisted. “We brought down the largest alien ship so far. The Council won’t ignore that.”

The Commander sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Barracks_

Patricia sat on the edge of her bunk. She’d attempted some sleep, but had found it impossible for more reasons than one. The mood was a mix of grimness and optimizing. They’d struck a massive blow against the aliens, but in doing so had proven that even the best were not invulnerable.

Liam, Mira and Luke had been here since the beginning, she found it difficult to imagine things moving forward without them. Mira might not have had friends, but she was a presence in XCOM that was impossible to ignore. Her death left a void that wouldn’t be filled easily.

It was more or less the same with Luke, even if he didn’t have her intensity, everyone knew who he was, only compounded by his olympian status. She suspected there was more to him than what he’d shown, but now they’d never know. Well, Mira had probably known. She still didn’t know what had possessed Luke to give Mira the detonators to some kind of…bomb? That whole incident had been bizarre and she was certain she was missing an important piece.

She shook her head and sighed. The only person who might know anything was the Commander, and she knew he had far more important things to worry about. Like the thousands of people who died when the dreadnaught crashed.

But the thing was, she didn’t feel guilty or even really sad. The aliens had forced their hand, there was nothing they could have done. This was just another addition to the list of attacks on humanity. Any emotion or anger, guilt or sadness was reserved for the aliens alone.

She couldn’t wait for the chance to inflict a similar attack on them.

She looked down at her arms resting on her knees and realized her fists were clenched. She took a deep breath and relaxed. No point getting angry now. No aliens to take it out on. She glanced at Abby’s sleeping body across the room, tossing and turning.

She was surprised the woman was able to get to sleep at all. She was taking Liam’s death pretty hard and hadn’t uttered a word on the trip back. When they’d landed, she’d taken off without saying anything. Patricia suspected she was finding somewhere to cry and had warded off anyone from following her. She needed space.

Still, she was concerned about her mental state. It might be a good idea to take her off active duty until she got things sorted out. Not that she’d admit it, but losing him was going to hurt more than any death she’d witnessed. She’d have to speak with the Commander, maybe use a psychiatrist if there was one here. Those people could actually be helpful.

But maybe that was premature. She’d have to watch for a few days, see how she fared and make a decision from there.

If anything, she was more concerned about her own mental state.

The buzzing in her head hadn’t disappeared when she left the dreadnaught. It was muted for sure, but it was still there, still persistent. This was actually the least distracting it had been, it was like a fly buzzing on the outskirts of her hearing. She knew there were medical terms for this sort of thing, but she knew it would be a waste of time.

The alien dreadnaught had changed her somehow.

It wasn’t painful, at best a distraction and at worst an annoyance. But she didn’t know what would trigger it to be worse. But what was more disturbing were the alien symbols etched into her brain. The images were crystal clear in her head, along with each translation.

_Surprise._

_Interest._

_Disappointment._

_Potential._

She didn’t know why those four words had appeared, but she felt that each word was very deliberate. She grabbed the pad of paper next to her and continued transcribing the images in her head to paper. The paper was messy, with lines and arrows drawn from symbol to symbol.

She scowled as she continued transcribing _Disappointment_. One of the same symbols had appeared in _Surprise_ and in a completely different place. The alien language didn’t appear to have a set of rule, at least from what she could see. She finished transcribing and looked at the unorganized mess of lines.

Was she going crazy? How could she possibly know what _any_ of this meant? And yet….she’d been able to shut down those power sources as if guided by…something. If she was going crazy, it was the useful kind. And she was fairly certain that didn’t exist.

Which brought up the question: What _was_ happening to her? What, when, how and why. She didn’t know the answers to any of those and she needed to if she ever wanted to learn what was going on.

She’d have to tell the Commander at least. He’d probably know what course to take. He wasn’t an idiot and would know to take this seriously. He’d probably have Vahlen take a look at her. The woman appeared a little unsettling sometimes, but if anyone could figure out what was going on, it would probably be her.

But before Vahlen began tests on her, she wanted to try and figure out _something_ before. She finished her transcriptions and eyed her work in disgust. She saw repeating symbols, but all of them in completely different places from each other, there was no phonetic similarities whatsoever.

There had to be something she was missing. Something obvious. The symbols had to mean _something_. They clearly did, otherwise she wouldn’t have thought the word in her head.

She sat up in realization. No. No, no, no, she’d gotten this wrong. The word in her head wasn’t a _direct_ translation, not really. It was the feeling she _connected_ to when she’d seen the symbols. The first time it’d happened, she’d been similarly surprised and thus it might have been coincidence that her emotions lined up with the word in her head.

But the second time? She’d been apprehensive upon opening the interface again, but upon seeing the symbols, she felt growing curiosity, along with the feeling she was being watched. Then it followed that the word her brain had ascribed to those feelings was _interest_. But not _her_ interest. Something else’s.

She shook her head. That couldn’t be, could it? Because the only explanation was that she’d been telepathically contacted to…something. Or that something had planted those symbols in her mind.

But…upon reflection she began to realize the emotions she associated with the symbols in her head were not her own. They couldn’t be, she recalled that entire battle perfectly and…her own emotions weren’t matching up.

She lay back down on the bed, trying furiously to think of some other explanation for it. Alright, so hypothetically if something _had_ planted those symbols and emotions in her mind, then what did it mean? Was she compromised now? She had to be to some extent, but it didn’t feel…invasive or even remotely threatening. She felt completely herself.

But she wasn’t even remotely qualified to figure this out correctly. As much as she disliked it, she’d have to get help if she wanted to solve what was going on. But if she _was_ compromised, the Commander need to know sooner than later.

She nodded to herself. That would have to do. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to keep trying. Sitting back up, she grabbed the paper and pen and kept working to solve what all of it meant.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Hallways_

Abby passed the soldiers in the hallway and gave a silent nod. She wasn’t interested in conversation or accepting any more sympathies. Enough people had come up to her offering them and she’d grown tired of them. All the sympathy in the world didn’t help her or bring anyone back.

She’d allowed herself a short time to grieve, but that was over now. Liam wouldn’t want her to continuously punish herself or let it keep her down. He’d want her to move on and ensure this didn’t have to happen again.

Not that she believed she could solely do it, that was unrealistic and delusional. But after thinking very hard over the past few days about her role here, she was beginning to think she was in the wrong place to make that happen.

Rounding the corner, she spotted the small unmarked room. She wondered why he hadn’t gotten a more visible room, but she supposed it was his right. She supposed it prevented unwanted visitors and maintained secrecy. She opened the door, something she hadn’t normally done in the Citadel since most doors were automatic.

Zhang looked up as the door squeaked open. His face was unreadable as usual, the lighting illuminating the scar on his face. The room itself was pretty bare, one table to the side had a small stack of documents on it. Opposite it was a rack of each of the weapons of XCOM, a rifle, pistol, autolaser, every weapon they had. He was clearly prepared to defend his office if it became necessary.

Behind him was a large screen, currently playing news reports with the sound muted. She wondered what the thought process behind placing screens in every room, usually behind desks. Probably made it look more high-tech or something. The desk Zhang was seated at was oddly bare, except for the tablet Zhang put down as she walked in.

He inclined his head. “Specialist Gertrude, welcome.”

“Hey, Zhang,” she answered wearily as she took a seat opposite him. It was extremely informal, but they’d spoken enough that she figured that he wouldn’t object to her casual tone. Not to mention he didn’t seem to be the type to be strict about titles.

“My condolences on the friends you lost,” Zhang told her, his tone not changing in the slightest, though his eyes did seem softer than normal. “But I’m sure you know their sacrifice was not in vain.”

“Thank you,” she told him, shifting in her seat. “But I’m not focusing on that anymore. I’ve said my goodbyes. Time to move on.”

“Commendable,” Zhang commented, lacing his fingers together. “In that case, what did you want to speak with me about?”

She waited a few seconds before answering, organizing her thoughts. “Your offer to join XCOM Intelligence. I accept.”

The barest hint of approval flashed in his eyes. “Excellent,” he answered, sounding more satisfied than normal. “May I ask why?”

It was fortunate she had thought up an answer to this. No doubt he was wondering if it was Liam’s death that had prompted this decision. And in truth, it sort of was, but not for the reasons normally thought. It was a systematic revelation going all the way back to the first terror attack in Hamburg.

“What is the purpose of XCOM Intelligence?” She asked, leaning forward.

An eyebrow raised was the only surprise the grizzled Triad operative showed. “To gather actionable information on all enemies of XCOM by surveillance, infiltration and interrogation. Then neutralize, remove or eliminate them by any means necessary.”

Abby nodded. “That’s what I though and why I accepted,” she paused. “The only thing that is going to prevent more deaths is knowledge and information. If we’d know about the dreadnaught long before it made landfall, do you think the casualties would be lower?”

“Undoubtedly.” Zhang agreed.

“If we’d know exactly what was on the dreadnaught, I think we’d have had fewer casualties,” Abby continued earnestly. “If we’d known that Hamburg was going to be attacked we might have prevented it altogether. But as soldiers, we can only adapt to the situation at hand with the knowledge we have. I may be a decent soldier, but I can only react.”

She took a breath. “I’m still not sure what you, Liam and everyone saw in me, but I don’t think my place here is as a soldier. I’m here to save lives and I believe I’ll be able to do that better as an Intelligence agent rather than a soldier. That’s why I accepted, Director.”

Zhang cocked his head. “You’ve put some thought into this.” He commented slowly.

She shrugged. “It’s not a small decision.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “And based on that, I think you’ll do quite well here. I’ll fill out the necessary forms completing your transfer.”

Abby nodded. “When will I start?”

“When Ruth returns,” Zhang answered, standing up. “In a few days at most. In the meantime, I’ll give you access to Intelligence resources so you can get acquainted with our system. It will be different from what you’re used to.”

She gave another firm nod. “Understood, Director.”

Zhang extended a hand which she took in a firm grip. The corners of his lips curled up into _almost_ a smile, but not quite. “Welcome to XCOM Intelligence, Agent Gertrude.”

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Office of the Commander_

He expected a call anytime now. The Council wouldn’t ignore him forever, though it was possible they were trying to resolve the situation he had forced upon them. Not that they would specifically know it was him, or could do anything about it. He’d had Bradford release a statement to the media, nothing major, essentially confirming that XCOM existed and was responsible for downing the Dreadnaught.

The United Nations or the Council weren’t mentioned at all, so the most people could do was speculate. It had certain given the media plenty to talk about, the subject of what XCOM was had dominated the discussions ever since it was released. But it had the additional benefit of overshadowing the legal war the UN was about to become embroiled in.

Germany and Israel were on board with submitting claims over the wreckage of the dreadnaught, not only would they deny the Council alien materials, but they might stand to acquire some themselves. Win-win for everyone, except the Council.

Russia had also put in a claim, as had China. With XCOM now entering the picture, there currently stood a five-way standoff. He had no interest in who won, the amount of time it took for this to be resolved would be more than enough for Zhang to contaminate or sabotage the resources.

Still, he expected that the Council would likely have some idea who was behind it. But this was one thing they couldn’t prove. He was pretty pleased with himself for putting this into motion, on the advice of Van Doorn. Any politician would be proud. He frowned at that thought.

Hmm. That wasn’t exactly a comparison he wanted to make, but it was a necessary move, unfortunately.

The intercom beeped and he quickly pressed the answer key. “Bradford.”

_“We’ve got a secure transmission coming to you now,”_ he answered grimly. _“Guess who.”_

“About time,” the Commander muttered. “Alright, put them through.”

_“Will do. And good luck.”_

The line went dead and the Commander stood up, spun around to face the screen and clasped his hands behind his back in preparation for what was _probably_ going to be an important meeting. Professionalism would be more important than ever, and with that female speaker gone, a reasonable discussion could probably be had.

The screen flickered and the familiar image of the silhouetted man bathed in harsh blue light filled the screen. His hands rested on a table, fingers laced together. He was slightly curious just who the man was, he was clearly levelheaded and reasonable, both traits he admired. But it was the fact that he seemed to be truly neutral that stuck out to him the most. He had no doubt that the Speaker was just as honest with the Council as he was with him. A shame he was working for them, he would be an excellent addition to XCOM.

He inclined his head in greeting. “Speaker. A pleasure.”

_“Commander,”_ the Speaker replied, also inclining his head in greeting. _“The Council would like to…congratulate…you on the destruction of the alien dreadnaught.”_

“Tell the Council they have my thanks,” the Commander replied cordially. “Though it was not without cost. Three of my best died to achieve this victory.”

_“A sacrifice the Council is aware of,”_ the Speaker answered. _“They will be remembered as heroes.”_

“I’m pleased to hear that,” the Commander answered thankfully. “But I suspect you aren’t speaking to me just to convey the Council’s congratulations.”

_“Correct, Commander,”_ he continued, visibly shifting in his seat. _“Despite your recent…victory…some members of the Council are…displeased…with the amount of collateral damage caused by the destruction of the alien dreadnaught.”_

And there it came. Just like he expect. “I assure you, Speaker,” he began, shaking his head. “It was not our intention to crash the dreadnaught into the city. However, there was no choice. My team was sent in with one objective, and that was to bring it down. They had no control over the direction or destination. While the amount of Chinese casualties is not optimal, I can safely say that the devastation would have been much worse had we failed or not attempted the mission at all.”

_“While the Council does agree that it could have been worse, some believe that you didn’t do all you could to minimize civilian casualties.”_ The Speaker continued, his tone still neutral.

“You can tell the Chinese Councilor he was correct,” the Commander stated, letting some ice creep into his voice. “The minimization of civilian casualties was not a concern. The objective was destroying the dreadnaught. The Chinese Councilor is no doubt aware that the original path of the dreadnaught _was_ towards Shanghai, correct? A city with over fourteen million? Had I not intervened, the death toll would have been far higher than what it is now.”

_“While some councilors do echo your sentiment, there are several more who believe the cost of your command is too high,”_ the Speaker continued slowly. _“And recent…events…have not dissuaded those opposed to you.”_

Well, good to hear there were some intelligent people in the Council. And it didn’t matter what he did, those opposed to him would always keep after him. He could bring about world peace and they would still call for his execution. Another decision that made them angry didn’t concern him. “Very well,” he said wearily. “What have I done now?”

_“You revealed the existence of XCOM to the public,”_ the Speaker actually sounded disapproving. _“That was a breach that surprised even those who support you.”_

“The existence of XCOM was revealed during Hamburg,” the Commander defended. “People were already speculating on the existence of an Anti-Alien coalition. There is no point hiding anymore. Humanity needs something to rally behind. XCOM can now be that symbol, one utterly devoted to defending the Earth from the alien threat.”

_“The Council should have been consulted before releasing that statement,”_ the Speaker continued. _“A majority of councilors believe you overstepped your authority in this case.”_

“I am the Commander of XCOM,” he stated firmly. “There was no tactical reason not to reveal XCOM. Not only do we have a rallying point, we now have a new source of propaganda should the Council choose to utilize it.” He paused. “Tell me, Speaker, what reasons do you have for keeping the XCOM project concealed? Everyone of importance to the world knows about us, including the aliens, so why hide from the general public?”

The Speaker was silent for a moment. _“The issue isn’t the statement itself,”_ he finally answered. _“It’s the fact that you bypassed the Council. Again.”_

The Commander nodded. “With all due respect, the Council does not have a clear picture of the alien threat. I do. Thus I am more qualified to make tactical decisions.”

_“That, combined with the timing, does not inspire confidence,”_ the Speaker answered. _“Had you consulted with the Council, the decision would have probably been made to have XCOM go public.”_

The Commander sighed. “Please tell me what their problem actually is. Because it isn’t just that I didn’t keep them in the loop. They should be used to that.”

_“Very well,”_ the Speaker tilted his head forward. _“Some councilors dislike that you have arbitrarily decided to make XCOM a rallying point of humanity.”_

The Commander frowned. “And that is a problem because…?”

_“They believe the United Nations should be that rallying point,”_ the Speaker explained. _“Having XCOM take that position from them is…upsetting…for some of them.”_

Ahh. That was the real issue, they wanted to take credit for what he was doing. If XCOM was shown doing all the work it made the UN look negligent at best and ignorant at worst. Huh, and he thought that omitting them from his release to the media would make them happy.

But still, the UN as a rallying point for humanity? Really? He cracked a smile. “With all the respect the Council is due,” he began, the barest hint of amusement coloring his tone. “Please tell me exactly what the UN has done since the alien invasion began. The answer is nothing. _I’ve_ been the one defending Earth using XCOM, there is no reason for XCOM not to take that burden from the UN.”

_“You answer to the Council, technically,”_ the Speaker amended calmly. _“Even if you retain a large amount of autonomy, that fact doesn’t change. XCOM is part of the UN, your omission of this fact paints them in a bad and negligent light.”_

“Well, I apologize,” the Commander said, actually meaning it. He legitimately didn’t consider that the Council _actually_ wanted to be revealed. “It certainly wasn’t my intention.”

_“There is another event that has some councilors concerned,”_ the Speaker continued. _“Several nations have opened up a claim to the debris of the dreadnaught, including XCOM.”_

Ah, here they went. “Yes,” the Commander nodded. “XCOM is specifically devoted to combating the alien threat. Combined with the fact that it was _XCOM_ soldiers who downed the dreadnaught, I believe our claim is legitimate.”

_“It is,”_ the Speaker agreed. _“However, this is now a UN legal issue and XCOM is not a nation. You will be removed from contention soon.”_ He paused. _“However, you have proven yourself to be an intelligent person, so it follows that you would have already known that.”_

The Commander shrugged. “It was worth a shot.”

_“Perhaps,”_ the Speaker mused. _“But some councilors suspect you deliberately engineered this to prevent the Council from acquiring the remains of the dreadnaught.”_

The Commander raised an eyebrow, widened his eyes and attempted to put his best surprised face on. “Are you serious? You honestly think I would do that?”  He paused dramatically. “And if I’m not mistaken, I believe China and Russia are part of the Council, correct?”

_“Come now, Commander,”_ the Speaker answered, almost sounding amused. _“You and I both know you would go much further to deny your opponents resources. The Council also knows that Israel and Germany are not part of this Council, and also the fact that they are allied with XCOM. Specifically, you.”_

“Their soldiers died on that mission,” the Commander pointed out. “They are entitled to place a claim. I don’t understand what the issue is.”

_“The situation some councilors see is that you are deliberately stalling,”_ the Speaker explained. _“Thanks to the UN becoming involved, this dispute will not be settled for months, especially with four countries involved. You know that China has the best claim and will win in the end, so the question some councilors have is why you would cause this in the first place if not to deny them resources for as long as possible.”_

The Commander shook his head in disbelief. “Speaker, you are also well aware that my opponents on the Council will attempt to defame, smear and discredit me whenever possible. If they wanted to, I’m certain that they would blame everything that goes wrong for them on me. But the fact is, Speaker, that I am not the cause of every problem in the world, and I am tired of being blamed as such. I will not appease them any longer. Have them bring proof, or tell them to let me do my job.”

The Speaker was silent for a moment after his speech. _“I can understand your frustration,”_ he finally said, neutral as ever. _“But I also do not believe some of their claims are unwarranted or unsubstantiated. Before we conclude, there is one more development you should be aware of.”_

This should be good. “And that is?”

_“The Council has agreed on one thing,”_ the Speaker answered. _“That we have given you too much autonomy without any substantial oversight. That must change.”_

He blinked. They weren’t seriously going to _do_ this…were they?

“Speaker,” he stated slowly, letting some anger in his voice. “The last thing I, or XCOM, needs now is _oversight_.”

_“We understand that you are used to working with autonomy,”_ the Speaker continued neutrally. _“And you will retain that autonomy. But a representative of ours will be sent to the Citadel to…monitor…and represent the will of the Council in a more significant manner.”_

“And _what_ exactly would this represented be doing,” the Commander stated, struggling not to get _too_ angry. Damn it. This was going to throw a wrench into things. “Standing over my shoulder to make sure I follow every rule of yours?”

_“To ensure that our directives are delivered,”_ the Speaker explained. _“As well as ensuring that no illegal or unethical activity is taking place.”_

“So he’d just going to walk around and inspect everything?” The Commander demanded, beginning to pace.

_“He would be involved in your internal discussions and have unrestricted access throughout the base,”_ the Speaker clarified. _“Otherwise a representative would be useless.”_

“No.” the Commander shook his head. “I choose who is on my council. Not you, and _certainly_ not the Council. I choose people who are qualified and have an actual purpose aside from being a mouthpiece and puppet.”

_“The Council assures you that he will be qualified,”_ the Speaker continued. _“And I’m afraid, Commander, that you have very little choice in this matter.”_

“And what if I refuse?” The Commander hissed quietly.

_“Then China, Egypt and Canada will withdraw from the Council.”_ The Speaker stated, almost sounding disappointed.

Fuck.

One country dropping out could be handled. But not two, and certainly not China. That would devastate XCOM’s finances and they were at too critical a juncture to risk losing funding. The Speaker was right. He didn’t have a choice at the moment.

China, Egypt and Canada. He’d be sure to remember them.

He took a breath. This was a setback, but worst case, he’d have to remove the representative. He wasn’t going to change anything, he would just have to be more…discrete.

“Very well, Speaker,” he almost spat. “The Council will have this ‘victory’ but don’t expect me to change. I am going to win this war, and anything that impedes that goal will be considered an obstacle and dealt with accordingly.”

With that he shut off the screen. He stormed over to his chair and threw himself into it. Van Doorn _had_ suggested it might happen, but he didn’t think they would actually do it. He scowled. This was going to have to be handled _very_ carefully. There was no way he was including this puppet on his Internal Council, regardless of what the Council expected. The entire Intelligence division was going to have to be kept under wraps, all meetings would have to be held without his knowledge…this was giving him a headache just thinking it.

But he’d make it through. He’d faced murderers, terrorists, and aliens. One UN puppet was just another obstacle. One he intended to clear as quickly as possible. And if they insisted on sending him here, he was going to make life as difficult as possible.

Or maybe he was just overthinking it.

He sincerely hoped the man had a family. But even if he did, it was still going to be an incredibly difficult endeavor. This wasn’t going to be as easy as some of the others he’d dealt with.

But best to prepare for the worst case. But in any case, they needed to start making plans to deal with this. In the meantime, perhaps it was time for the UN to become embroiled in another scandal. Perhaps it was time to prepare to release the accounts of the Council’s meddling in Germany.

All in all, there was a lot to do.

And not much time to do it.

* * *

 

_The Citadel, Hallways_

_A Few Days Later_

The Council would be sending their puppet within two weeks, so the memo went. Information on who exactly it was going to be would be sent within a few days. Once they had an identity, they could make more solid plans on how to proceed. There were certainly going to be things that were off-limits to him, for sure.

The entirety of XCOM Intelligence would be concealed, an easier task than most probably thought. Zhang knew to keep a low profile and most of his agents were on assignment anyhow. New protocols would be instituted, of course. Any agents speaking to him would simply have to masquerade as soldiers, including Zhang. An easy enough task.

The soldiers would also be instructed to be wary to him. There would have to be a sense of distrust and suspicion to be formulated around him. That task might not be as difficult, depending on how he presented it. He’d have to coordinate with Zhang on that.

Weaponry and research was going to be tricky. He doubted that the puppet they sent would be able to follow Vahlen, but he’d have some idea of what they were doing and there were certain projects, such as Vahlen’s Sectoid Virus, along with the human test subjects. Those he wanted kept under wraps.

It went without saying that the higher-level contingencies would be hidden. No question about that. Even the lower-levels ones, that Thanatos Contingency especially, might draw unwanted attention.

The finer details were still being worked out. But he would find a way to get rid of this puppet one way or another. In the meantime, however, Vahlen had called all of them down to the research labs to discuss what she called the “Most important breakthrough of our time.” Vahlen didn’t tend to exaggerate, so he was extremely curious what she’d discovered.

The doors to the Research Labs hissed open and he strode through to see Shen and Bradford nearby while Vahlen was hunched over a microscope. Not wanting to disturb her, he walked over to Shen and Bradford.

“Commander,” Shen greeted, enthusiasm clear on his face. It had been a while since he’d seen the engineer this enthused.

“What is it?” He asked, peering over at Vahlen curiously.

“I’ll let the doctor explain,” he answered, smiling. “Suffice to say that it is our biggest breakthrough in XCOM. Maybe of all time.”

Really. This was getting interesting. He heard the doors hiss and saw Zhang and Van Doorn walk through. Everyone was here, time to see what Vahlen had discovered. He walked over and lightly tapped her on the shoulder.

“Everyone’s here, Vahlen,” he informed her. “What is it?”

“It’s… _remarkable,”_ she stated in awe. She stood up and eagerly pointed at the microscope. “Take a look.”

He looked down into the microscope and after a few seconds his eyes adjusted. The substance was a glowing yellow, but upon closer inspection, he saw little…triangles in the mix. Hundreds of them, and they clearly weren’t completely organic either, many of them were interconnected with each other and several were split with what appeared to be electricity holding them together.

He stood back up and looked at Vahlen. “It’s interesting, but what is it really?”

“The substance in filled with trillions of tiny nanomachines,” Vahlen explained excitedly. “From my research, they seem specifically designed to bond different components together.”

“Like what?” Bradford asked.

“Anything,” she emphasized, clutching her tablet. “This changes the field of genetic engineering as we know it. Using this, we can alter human DNA to include attributes of other organic creatures. We could take all the advantages of alien DNA and make them our own.”

“You want to integrate alien genetics with our soldiers?” Van Doorn asked incredulously, eyes widening.

 “Not _just_ alien DNA,” Vahlen clarified. “That’s the most exciting part! We can include genetics from animals, plants, anything organic! We can identify specific traits in our own human DNA and apply them as well. The possibilities are limitless!”

“We could create a true super soldier,” the Commander realized in awe. “The aliens would never expect it.”

“Exactly!” Vahlen exclaimed enthusiastically. He’d never seen her this excited before and had to smile. “I already have some preliminary idea for genetic modification.”

“While that is certainly an amazing advancement,” Shen interrupted. “That isn’t the only thing we discovered.”

The Commander turned to him and inclined his head. “Go on.”

“I’ve taken a close look at this substance as well,” Shen continued. “And it doesn’t only combine organic genes, it also works to interface organic and mechanical elements.”

“Cybernetics?” Zhang asked.

“Like the world has never seen,” Shen agreed. “This opens up the field of prosthetics and augmentation to a degree thought decades away. The prosthetics that would be developed using this would be beyond any ordinary human arm.”

“So what you’re saying is that we can create mechanized soldiers as well?” the Commander asked.

Shen nodded. “With time and experimentation. I’ve already drawn up some preliminary designs for a mechanical suit that would be unusable by ordinary soldiers, but is possible with MELD.”

“MELD?” The Commander asked.

Vahlen and Shen exchanged a look. “We have many different ideas on how to use this,” Vahlen explained. “But the name was one thing we both agreed on. It fits rather well, I think.”

“Agreed,” Bradford answered. “Both paths sound useful.”

“I assume you’ll have to do more testing?” The Commander asked, looking at both of them.

“I’ll have to build some prototypes,” Shen answered, adjusting his glasses. “But yes, it will be some time before a final model is completed.”

“I’ll also need test subjects before applying any genetic modifications to our soldiers,” Vahlen also said, looking at her tablet. “I’ll need to work out any potential issues, which will no doubt arise at first.”

“You’ll both get what you need,” the Commander promised. “Excellent work. This could change the entire war.”

“And with the aliens, EXALT and part of the Council all working against us, we’ll need every advantage we can get.” Zhang added, nodding in approval.

“I’ll speak to you individually later,” the Commander promised. “Then we can make some more concrete decisions.”

He looked around at them. Despite it being a relatively short time since he’d met them, he felt they were as trustworthy as anyone from his old team. Together they’d drive the aliens off this planet and leave no survivors.

“The war is going to enter a turning point,” he stated. “Each of you knows what to do and we have no time to lose.” He inclined his head and gave them his salute.

“Dismissed. We have a war to win.”

 

 


	35. Epilogue - Subject Four

 

She blinked her eyes sleepily as the harsh white lights came on gradually. Groaning, she curled back up into a ball, hoping it would dim. But it was pointless, since she was fairly certain by now that the lights were set on an eight hour system. Which admittedly did make it slightly easier to track the days.

Not that she could really do anything else at this point.

She rubbed her eyes and pulled the blanket off and swung her legs until they were hanging off the small cot. As always, she figured she was being watched and the mirrors that circled the room didn’t do anything to dissuade her that was the case. She was assuming that they were a one-way mirror of some sort.

She fearfully snuck a glance at the door leading into her cell, hoping that they would ignore her today.

Despite her efforts, the days were all blending together and she no longer had any idea of how long it had been since she was taken. One month? Two? Her sense of time was completely messed up and she knew it was only a matter of time before they killed her or she went mad.

She pushed herself off the bed and walked over to the slot where the cloths were distributed. Were she not being jabbed, prodded and experimented on, the living conditions here were…honestly not completely bad. Ignoring the fact that she was inside a cell, it at least showed _some_ kind of normalcy and decency.

Meals arrived roughly every eight hours, and it wasn’t simply prison sludge either. It was _actual_ food, vegetables, fruit, pasta, there was a surprising amount of variation and she’d been surprised by the quality as well.

Not that it usually mattered as she ended up throwing it all back up anyway.

Fresh cloths were also delivered every day, which she always donned after taking a quick shower. Another feature of this cell that was unusual, and it would almost be normal were it not for the fact that they were undoubtedly watching her. There was no privacy here and she was certain there was some perverted person watching her undress and shower every day.

She’d tried to find some way to stop them watching, and even refused to use it for a time. But at this point she didn’t care. There were much larger things to fear than being watched naked.

She now tried to keep her showers quick all the same, but not for that reason. She didn’t want to be caught when they came back.

And they always came back.

She shuddered in terror. It was always random and unexpected, two people would come in, always a man and woman. Then they’d strap her to the chair that was placed off to the side of the cell. Then they’d begin experimenting, they’d jabbed more needles in her than she wanted to think about.

She had no clue what was in the syringes. They never explained and she was often screaming too much to really ask. She suspected they’d infused her with various addictive drugs several times, since a few times she’d entered a pleasant euphoric state, giggling as the world swum around her. They’d repeat that for several days until the addiction took hold and then stopped.

Then they left her alone as her body went through withdrawal, while she writhed on the ground sobbing and puking over and over. While she was too weak to move, they’d occasionally send in a person to clean up her mess, though he never stayed long, let alone tried speaking to her.

And those were the least painful drugs she was given.

Most of the injections left her paralyzed with pain. The sensations ranged from fire to acid to frost. She’d experienced the sensation of death so often it was starting to become familiar. They never stayed long after the injection, they just left her on the floor as she writhed and screamed, begging for the pain to stop.

What this accomplished, she didn’t know, and frankly didn’t want to know.

There was no escape from this prison. They provided utensils with the meals and after the first few injections, she’d tried to kill herself. That was when she discovered the other thing these people had implanted inside her. She still wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it delivered a paralyzing shock throughout her body when she placed the knife at her throat.

Like everything with these people, the pain didn’t leave. The shock lingered for hours after and she was left twitching on the ground while someone had come and calmly picked up her dishes. These people didn’t have any emotion, everything was done as passively and emotionlessly as possible.

It was terrifying how little they regarded her.

They never mentioned her name except during the beginning for their files. With every single action, she felt as though her very existence offended them, the disgust in their eyes only made her feel even more worthless before them. And no matter what she did, they never showed any amount of concern. She was replaceable and they didn’t see a need to hide that.

She shut off the water and quickly dried off and put the cloths they’d given her on. Unlike the food, there was no variation, each delivery of cloths was exactly the same as the last one. An all-white shirt, pants, underwear and socks. There were some white sneakers too, but she rarely wore them and they hadn’t replaced them yet. Though they might if she wore them out.

She took the cloths from the previous “day” and placed them in a small slot that probably led to some kind of cloths basket. She’d tried taking a peek through, but saw nothing. It was the same with the slot for the dishes.

Besides, what was the point? It wasn’t like she was ever going to escape.

She went over to the corner farthest away from the door and huddled down into it. An instinctual habit she’d developed in the vain hope that it would make it harder for them to watch her. Childish and ineffective for sure, but she couldn’t help it, this was the only part of the cell where she didn’t feel completely exposed.

They’d never given her anything to do, so she was left to wander in her own thoughts. The first few days she’d dreamed of escape until she learned the impossibility of it. Instead she now mostly thought about everyone she’d left behind.

They probably thought she was either kidnapped or dead by now, it had been to long for them to think differently. No one would think she’d run away or just leave without telling anyone, she’d never been like that.

She wondered how everyone had, or was, taking it. Her parents would have been devastated, she wished there was some way to let them know she was alive even if it was in this hell. Her brother would have been sad as well, though not quite to the extent of her parents. They’d never been especially close.

She wondered what Latrell was doing now. Her boyfriend was probably the only one who probably hadn’t given up hope that she’d survived. He was a stubborn idiot sometimes and she had no doubt he was combing the police records in search of reports of people like her. It was one of the few times she wished he wasn’t the son of a cop. These people were dangerous and she was afraid if he accidentally found something out they’d find and kill him.

The door to her cell opened smoothly and she tried squeezing back further, trying to hide herself. “No,” she murmured as they entered, tears forming in her eyes from anticipating the pain to come. “Not now. Not again.”

Both wore the same attire as always, business suits and black dress shoes. They were proper and clear to a fault. The man was clean shaven and blonde hair neatly combed back. His face was hard as stone and unrelenting in the slightest. His eyes were as emotionless as the rest of his face, appraising her like a tool to be used or discarded.

The woman retained the same sternness of her counterpart, with her black hair pulled back into a ponytail with not a hair out of place. But unlike her counterpart, her eyes held nothing but contempt and disgust.

She crossed her arms to try and ward them off, but the man easily overpowered her and simply hauled her to her feet. “Please!” she begged as he half-dragged her to the chair. “Not again!” She might as well have been complaining to a statue for all the good it did. She’d once made the mistake of trying to hit him and the man had simply tapped a button on his watch and that activated the electric shock implant in her. Then they’d continued like normal.

Both of them were experts at this now and quickly secured her to the chair at the wrists and ankles. She didn’t bother struggling anymore, there was no point. Even less of a point when the two of them were watching. In the unlikely event that she _did_ manage to free herself, they’d simply secure her again.

“Begin log,” the man said and the woman pulled out clipboard from her bag along with a pen, ready to transcribe.

“Subject Four,” the man continued. “Annette Durand, test thirty-seven, experimental compound one-one-three-eight. Date, July fifth, two-thousand-fifteen.”

Three months. She’d been in here three months. This was the first time they’d mentioned that date and she was terrified as to why. The woman glanced up and for once addressed her directly. “Yes, Subject Four. You’ve served your purpose here, depending on how this goes these may be your last seconds on the earth.”

She blinked. It sounded too good to be true. This had to be some kind of trick, they wouldn’t just let her die. But if so, she prayed for her end to come. The woman took out a syringe filled with a clear liquid and injected it into her arm.

“Release it,” the man ordered as she felt the clamps come off. “If it’s like the other’s we’ll want to stand back.”

Annette barely heard him as she collapsed to the floor, feeling like she was continuously falling. The world around her spun and dipped. Her vision blurred and became crystal clear. Then a pressure began building in her mind, it started as what felt like a small lump and quickly grew until she was wracked with the worst headache she’d ever had in her life.

She clutched her head and screamed as the pressure increased and pushed. Tears streamed down her face as she started banging on it trying to get it to stop. It felt like it was going to explode and after what seemed like an infinity, it did.

It was the loudest bang she’d ever heard that left her ears ringing. Her vision faded out and was replaced by blackness intermixed with purple flares. Flashes of light assaulted her vision, forming into odd shapes and images. Some looked like people she knew, others complete strangers. The images continued moving and flashing in random sequences.

She had no idea what was happening and then it all abruptly vanished and she opened her eyes on the floor, the buzzing in her ears fading and for one brief moment, everything was silent.

Then she was assaulted by the voices.

A hundred, a thousand, she couldn’t make out the number, only that there were an uncountable amount of screaming voices in her head. She shouted and clutched her ears, hoping to block them out. But it with dawning horror that she realized the voices were _inside_ her own head. They screamed, wailed and shouted incomprehensible words. It was a chorus of tortured souls and she could only make out odd words here and there.

But now she realized that something else had happened. There was something inside her, something that hadn’t been there before. It was ethereal and intangible but it was the warmth of power that she’d never come close to feeling before.

She felt the man pick her up and steady her. “Make note that Subject Four has survived.” He told the woman.

Annette glared up at him, the voices still shouting and crying. Her head pounding from whatever drug he’d given her. “ _Get off me!”_ She snarled, her voice deepening and doubling as if multiple Annettes were speaking. She channeled every single bit of rage, pain and terror into one final shove that she wished would be the final push that made him kill her.

She pushed and a purple shockwave burst out of her when she pushed, sending the man flying back into the wall. She stumbled back in shock, not even noticing one of the voices had gone quiet. A wave of pain hit her in the stomach and she sank to her knees and looked at her hand which were enshrined in purple mist.

The skin on her hands and arms where the mist touched was bubbling and searing, adding more pain to her torture. She looked up at the woman who was staring at her in shock. _“What did you do to me?!”_ She screamed at her, voice unrecognizable to her.

The woman didn’t respond, only tapped a button on her wrist and an electric shock ran through her body and she collapsed to the ground, the voices continuing to echo in her head. As her vision faded, she saw the woman standing over her and tapped the earpiece.

“Inform the Director we have a success,” she said coldly, peering down at her in contempt. “Yes, it is Subject Four.” She seemed to wait for a response. “Yes, she’ll be subdued.” With that she tapped the button again and that final shock send Annette into the blissful realm of unconsciousness.

But even in darkness, the voices still persisted.

 


End file.
